


To Be Cursed

by thebloodofanangel



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8928658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebloodofanangel/pseuds/thebloodofanangel
Summary: Set in an alternate universe where the world is split between normals and the cursed, Kurapika is 16 year old who has jumped from foster parent to foster parent after his family was murdered for having the infliction. Kurapika is shipped off to live with a new foster parent in Yorknew City and expected to attend yet another new school. Kurapika has no intention of making friends; after all, people leave him once they find out he has the curse. Nonetheless, not only does he find himself making friends against his will, but he also finds himself being pursued by the academy's most influential student, Lucilfer Kuroro.





	1. A New Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> I used to write Naruto fanfiction when I was in high school/early college. That was around 9 years ago. Let's just say that my writing is really rusty because I haven't written since. I don't know how or why but I became discouraged and gave up my dream of writing. Not to mention being a teacher and going to grad school while planning your wedding that is going to be in April doesn't add more stress! Any advice would be appreciated because I am trying to brush up my writing skills so I can eventually write a novel someday.
> 
> Sorry if characters sound out of character; it has been too long since I have written!
> 
> The main pairing will be Kuroro and Kurapika. Reference to Kuroro/Hisoka and Hisoka/Gon will mostly be flirting (as in Hisoka being Hisoka); it will not be expanded into anything meaningful.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any likeness of Hunter x Hunter.

His fingers twitched around the crumpled letter as the train hummed beneath him. Out of the corner of his eye, the scenery rushed by in a blur. Just greens and browns and blacks. Just colors without a body to hold them. The train was moving too quickly for anyone to appreciate what the colors belonged to--if anyone even wanted to appreciate them.

Normally, one stuck with their school the entire high school career--all four years. Usually those people, the normals, had a family of some sort to house them for those fours year, their whole lifetime even. He wasn’t a normal though; his fingers twitched around the letter again, at the very thought of who he was.

His existence was a rare one. Not many like him existed. Those born with the curse were often persecuted, tortured, locked up, and/or murdered young. Very few who survived grew old enough to have children of their own. His family managed it; they had built an entire civilization apart from the normals. They survived for nearly a century, undiscovered, but waiting for the time they would be hunted. 

Then they were found. As far as he knew, he was the only one who survived.

Kurapika tried not to think about it too much. Rage can lead to self-destruction.

The curse affected people differently, based on their genetics. There was always some physical feature that distinguished normals from the cursed. The curse caused his family’s eyes to glow red when under intense emotions; his colored contacts hid them for them most part. However, there was a reason why he was moving and attending a new school. The Hunter Association protected people who had the curse. When they found him wedged between the washing machine and the wall when he was young, he had been pushed around from one foster home to another. His hothead always had him found out; once people find out about the curse, you’re not wanted around anymore. People feared those who were different. This has made it very difficult for Kurapika to make friends or even want friends for that matter.

The screech of the train whistle pulled Kurapika from his thoughts. He was here; his new foster parent was waiting outside with a Hunter Association representative, his new case manager. 

After gathering his one trunk from storage (he didn’t have many belongings,) he trudged his way out of the train. Upon stepping out of the train, Kurapika was surprised by how many people were coming and going at the station. His previous case manager had told him that maybe it was best if they hid him in “plain sight” by having him live in a larger city such as Yorknew City, where people were more concerned about themselves than others. Kurapika was both nervous and excited about leaving the boring days of various small cities behind him and being surrounded by so many people.

The bustle of people pushed Kurapika to and fro as he moved through the crowd, his eyes searching for a sign with his name on it. Supposedly, his new case manager was suppose to have one. Colors whipped around him, belonging to people he would never bother to get to know. The tile floor clicked under his shoes. The natural light coming between the pillars of the station blinded him. A cool breeze blew through his blond hair.

And then he saw his name. The man holding the sign with his name looked intimidating, like someone that shouldn’t be crossed. He definitely looked as if he hit the gym; even in his white suit and black tie, one could tell that he was muscular. A scowl seemed to permanently rest on his face, and his black hair was styled into a pompadour. Next to him was a short, stocky individual; Kurapika couldn’t tell if the person was a woman or a man, but he believed it was a woman because they wore a green dress and a brown hat over their gray hair. A peaceful, small smile graced their lips. 

Kurapika slowly made his way toward the two individuals. He wouldn’t say he was nervous, per se. He has done this 4 times before. He would be polite, mind his own business, and his foster parent(s) would do the same. It was just nerve racking because he wouldn’t know how long it would take him to lose his temper and then they would find out about his curse. He was 16, almost 17; he just had to survive a year and a half in the foster care system before he could be living on his own. Then only he had to be burdened by his curse. 

He stopped in front of them.

“Kurta Kurapika?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

The man beamed--which was still intimidating, somehow. “Welcome to Yorknew City! I am your case manager. Bine Knuckle! While you’re living here, I will be in charge of all your legal matters. We will discuss the details later in private, of course.”

He continued to smile as the woman next to him cleared her throat. She looked up at him and spoke in a musical voice, “Hello, Kurapika. It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I am Senritsu.” She offered her hand after her introduction; Kurapika accepted it.

“Senritsu will be your foster parent. As I said before, we will discuss the details later. Follow me to the car.”

As they walked toward the car, Kurapika looked at Senritsu out of the corner of his eye. She seemed nice enough, but he had learned not to judge based on appearance and first words. His past foster parents seemed nice as well, but they didn’t bat an eye when they tossed him out after learning of his affliction. 

~~~*~~~

Kurapika was curious about why Senritsu looked the way she did, and he wondered even more when he found out she was in her 20s. So he supposed he was only half surprised when he learned, upon sitting down in Knuckle’s office, that Senritsu also had the curse. However, he was completely shocked when he heard that upon learning about him, Senritsu insisted that she foster him. She had argued with the Hunter Association that she would understand him better than any of the other foster parents available, and Kurapika wouldn’t have to keep his curse a secret from her, wouldn’t have to fear her finding out, and wouldn’t have to worry about her throwing him to the curve upon the discovery of his curse.

Like the curse made Kurapika’s eyes glow red, Senritsu’s unbecoming appearance was the result of the curse. She also had a unique gift, which she shared with him on the car ride home after all the legal matters were taken care of. She had acute hearing, being able to even hear and analyze one’s heartbeat. He didn’t believe her at first, but when she was able to accurately describe how he was nervous about his first day of school tomorrow, he took her word about her ability. 

“Does everyone who has the curse have a special ability?” he calmly asked her. “I don’t believe that I have one.”

“I couldn’t say,” she smiled, “the curse is different for each person it possesses. They say the curse originated long ago, and that everyone used to have it, but with evolution, less and less people were born with the genetic mutation. And, of course, people are afraid of what they don’t understand and of what is different. So here we are, ostracized for something we can’t control.”

“So it could just be my eyes that make me different?” Kurapik asked; it felt nice talking to another cursed. 

“Possibly. I actually didn’t know I had the curse until I was about your age. I was listening to this beautiful melody, and suddenly, I felt very drowsy. Next thing I know, I woke up looking like this and being able to hear things no normal person could. My parents threw me out, not believing that I was their daughter even though I knew everything about them and myself, and it took quite some time to control what I wanted to hear and when I wanted to hear it.”

Senritsu pulled into her driveway. Kurapika didn’t know how she could speak so calmly about how the curse came upon her. Obviously, she had been born with it, but to have gone through years of your life, not knowing you had it, and then suddenly you wake up looking completely different and then your parents not recognizing you. And to top it off, he couldn’t imagine hearing everything all at once at such an intense volume.

Senritsu smiled at him, as if she knew what he was thinking, and maybe she did--what with being able to read his heartbeat and all.


	2. Chemistry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika's plan is to avoid friendship. The plan is off to a bad start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems slow going; it will pick up soon, I promise!  
> I am trying to get in as much writing as I can during winter break, because once winter break is over, I have to be a teacher again and graduate school starts. Boo!

Kurapika liked the idea of school; he liked learning. The first day of school wasn’t hard if it was everyone else’s first day of school. However, starting school in the middle of October was difficult, and starting at a new school as a junior was even more difficult. People were going to be curious about him. He wasn’t too concerned about standing up for himself when it came to bullies and whatnot. It was the potential friends that bothered him. 

It happened every time he started a new school (this was the fourth time.) There were the bullies who wanted to pick on the new kid--they learned quickly not to mess with him--and there were the friendly students that think they’re saints because they were taking the time to befriend him.

They learned quickly that he didn’t want friends.

It usually took a couple of weeks for Kurapika to settle in. It wasn’t like it was hard to discourage the bullies and avoid making friends, but it was draining, and he wasn’t sure why he was particularly nervous about this new chapter in his life. Maybe it was because he actually wanted to stay with Senritsu. She understood him. She seemed to care. He didn’t want to mess up. He wanted to stay here; spend out the rest of his foster days with her.

He pressed his palms against his eyes on the drive to school that morning, willing them to just stay brown today and forever.

The car suddenly stopped in front of the school. He felt Senritsu’s reassuring hand on his arm.

“All your paperwork is filled out. You just need to check in with the office. Did you want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

He appreciated her offer, but he did not want his first appearance involving being escorted by a foster parent. He needed to look confident and independent. Yet, his hand still lingered on the door handle for a few seconds longer.

“Just be yourself,” Senritsu stated, which was a typical mom response--guess she was doing a good job so far as a parent. “You’ll make friends in no time.”

That was definitely what he was afraid of. He didn’t want friends. He didn’t want people to eventually find out what he was and then leave him. 

He opened the door and stepped out of the green Saturn sedan. He heard Senritsu wish him luck before slowly leaving the parking lot. Kurapika didn’t move right away. Instead, he took in his surroundings.

Heavens Academy was one of the best high schools in the Yorbian Continent, and it was definitely Yorknew City’s pride and joy. It was a large school with class sizes in the 400s. It was by far the biggest school that Kurapika has even laid eyes on; he was hoping that due to the size, people wouldn’t even notice him. After all, he would just be one out of the 408 juniors in the school. 

To accommodate the large number of students, the school had many campuses that were categorized by subject. In other words, there was a campus for the sciences, and one for the arts, and so on. Kurapika was mostly excited about the library; he read that it had three floors and the books lined the walls top to bottom. 

The school had a very modern feel to it. As Kurapika walked toward the main campus, he was sure that the buildings and technology were updated often. Greenery was everywhere. Everywhere he looked there were trees, bushes, and flowers. His feet carried him on one of the many smooth concrete paths. As he headed toward the main campus, he realize that all the buildings were made of white bricks and had this smooth look to them; the roofs were flat, gray, and... Kurapika wasn’t sure how he was going to remember where each campus was if everything looked the same. He hoped the office gave him a map, and it was easy to read. 

A red haired woman sat at the main office desk. She was twirling her fingers through one of her bushy pigtails as she stared intently at her computer screen. Kurapika patiently waited in front of her desk for a few seconds before he finally cleared his throat.  
“Oh!” she squeaked in shock. “I was lost in my work!!! What can I do for you?”

Kurapika handed her the once crumpled up letter from the train. Judging by her facial expression as she tried to flatten it out on the desk, she wasn’t very happy about the state of the letter. He wanted to explain to her that he didn’t mean to crumple the letter, he had just had a nervous fit on the train. His hands had need something to do, and there was the letter, just begging to be crumpled. Nonetheless, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh, Kurta Kurapika, the new student. Let me find your schedule here...” she started ruffling through all the papers on her desk before eventually finding it. As she handed it to him, “Here you go. I also have someone to escort you to your class today and tomorrow.”

'Damnit.'

Kurapika was about to tell her that that wasn’t necessary, but before he could even open his mouth, a boy a few years younger than him was standing next to him. His smile was blinding; Kurapika was immediately caught off guard--he hadn’t even realized that the boy had already begun talking to him or that the red haired secretary had already returned to typing on her computer, having completely forgotten about him. 

His attention returned to the boy. He was about five inches shorter than him, but his tall, spiky black hair made up for his lack of height. That smile that was previously on his face had vanished; instead there was confusion.

“Um... did you hear me?” he asked. Instead of responding, Kurapika began his exit from the room. However, the boy didn’t take the hint and followed after him. “Hey, Kurapika! I am suppose to give you a tour before school starts!”

“That’s okay. I don’t need one.”

“You’ll get lost though,” the boy thoughtfully responded. “I remember on my first day of school, I missed my morning classes, but, luckily, I made friends with Killua at lunch, and he helped me find my afternoon classes.” He took a deep breath and continued, “But, oh man, the teachers were so angry at me that I got detentions for the rest of the week of school!” 

He pouted to himself at the memory. It took all of Kurapika’s willpower to not smile at the pout, the way the young boy’s brown eyes glistened with disappointment, the way he immediately returned to his happy self when he realized that Kurapika was still there next to him. He wasn’t sure if he ever met a kid so... Kurapika couldn’t even explain the boy in front of him. All he could decipher was that there was a need to protect this boy, look out for him... be friends--No! 'I can’t make friends,' Kurapika reminded himself. Friends eventually lead to abandonment. He needed to tell this kid that he was perfectly capable of finding his classes on his own.

“Listen... uh... what’s your name?”

“Gon, remember? I introduced myself in the office,” he beamed.

His smile was so innocent that Kurapika didn’t have the heart to tell him that he hadn’t forgotten his name, he just hadn’t been listening. Gon rocked on the heels of his feet as he eagerly waited for Kurapika to speak. 

It was a stare down.

Gon’s smiling, eager eyes.

Kurapika reluctant, lonely eyes.

“Fine,” Kurapika practically spat. “Show me around then.”

Throwing his hands into the air, Gon cheered at his victory, at his newly appointed position to show Kurapika around the school. Kurapika had to look away; he couldn’t believe he let this freshman break him. Sighing, he decided that once this tour was over, he would just avoid Gon like the plague. He knew that if he didn’t, he would find himself becoming friends with him. He couldn’t let that happen.

~~~*~~~

Anxiety was crawling through Kurapika’s body like spiders. He could feel the spider webs in his veins.

The school wasn’t as difficult to navigate at he thought it would be.

Gon’s infectious, positive attitude, however, was drawing Kurapika in as a moth would be drawn to a flame. And from the looks of it, everyone else orbited around Gon as well; he seemed to be on friendly terms with everyone. From fist bumps, to high fives, to even hugs... Gon was practically everyone’s favorite kid here.

And Kurapika found himself softly laughing at the things Gon was saying, at the way he tripped over his own feet sometimes, and at the way he interacted with others. And although it felt good to smile and laugh, it also hurt. Because with each smile, Kurapika knew that the pain of desertion would intensify, if he were to lose his cool enough for his curse to show through. 

Kurapika took a deep breath. It was going to be okay this time. No one would know about his curse, because he wasn’t going to make any mistakes this time. If he was to... make friends with Gon, it would be fine because Kurapika had no intention of losing his temper and being discovered.

Right? 

“So your first class is Chemistry,” Gon stated as he handed Kurapika his schedule. “Then it’s break. Killua and I usually hang out near the flagpole, which is by the library. Then you have English. Then it’s Lunch.” Gon’s eyes widen in excitement as the warning bell sounded across the campus. “You have to eat lunch with us. Meet us at the cafeteria!”

Gon waved excitedly as he sprinted toward the Social Studies campus. Kurapika waved after him, a little angry at himself for falling victim to Gon’s charm. That kid had to be a siren or something.

Gon had left Kurapika in front of the Chemistry building. Kurapika quickly rushed inside, eyes down, holding his books tightly to his chest in hopes that it communicated to others that he didn’t want any social interaction. The nature of humans at school, he realized, was that once one found a seat, they continuously sat at that seat for the entire year. It is a safety net. So when Kurapika entered his classroom, students had already deposited their belongings where they sat (since it was the middle of October after all.) Most were still socializing, however, since the final bell hadn’t rung yet.

Kurapika lingered in the doorway. Should he ask the teacher where he should sit or should he just boldly pick a seat that seemed empty? If he picked a seat that seemed empty, and it, in fact, wasn’t empty, then he might have to deal with the student who normally sits there. If he asked the teacher, she might introduce him to the whole class.

He would just pick a seat then.

“Hey, you’re blocking the doorway,” a cheerful voice stated behind him. Kurapika stepped to the side, bumping into the frame of the door, to let a blond haired junior through. The teenager didn’t look at Kurapika and instead just kept his green eyes on his phone. “You new? You seem lost. The seat next to me is vacant.”

The blonde continued to his seat, never once having looked up, and feeling as if he didn’t have any other options, Kurapika followed him to claim that vacant seat. It would be the safest option--that teen will probably be more interested in his phone than him, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang. I swear since I read my middle school students' writing, my writing is terrible because their incorrect habits wear off on me :( Especially when it comes to describing settings. I suck at it!
> 
> I think I will have Kuroro make an appearance next chapter. That sounds good, right?


	3. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika is introduced to an influential group of students at his new school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, this chapter is interesting. I am being pretty lenient on the ages of a lot of the characters, as in I am changing a lot of the characters' ages. Part of me hates it, but then I just lie to myself and say that since it's an alternate universe story, it's okay. Ha.

The first half of Chemistry was notetaking, something Kurapika could handle fine; after all, it didn’t require talking. Classes were an hour and a half long, with a ten minute break after the first 40 minutes. When the teacher announced for the break, students practically jumped out of their seats to rush to the restroom. Kurapika remained sitting.

“Not many students transfer into our school during the year. In fact, not many students transfer here at all, considering how hard it is to get in. Even students from out of Yorknew have a hard time getting into Heavens Academy at the start of their high school career.”

The blond smiled at him the entire time; Kurapika found it more unsettling than friendly. 

“Guess I was lucky.”

The blonde glanced back at his phone, still smiling, typed something ridiculously fast, and then looked back at Kurapika, “Sounds like it. Though it must be rough, needing to make new friends and all.”

“Yeah.”

Kurapika tried to keep his responses short, void of information. Maybe the blonde will get the hint that he wasn’t interested in conversing with him. He kept his eyes on his class schedule, pretending as if he was trying to remember it, even though he already had it memorized by heart. The blonde glanced at his schedule.

“We have a couple of classes together. Technology this afternoon, for example. You should sit next to me.”

“Sure,” Kurapika ventured a glance up at the junior.

The blonde offered his hand to him, “It’s Shalnark.” Kurapika shook his hand but before he could offer his own name, Shalnark continued, “Kurapika, right?”

An uneasy feeling, one part anxiety and two parts fear, danced in Kurapika’s chest when Shalnark had already known his name. How did he know who he was? Shalnark’s smile seemed to grow more ominous by the second, slowly engulfing Kurapika whole. Suffocating darkness swirled around, enclosing them. No one else was present. Razor sharp nails raked down Kurapika’s arms as bodiless voices whispered, ‘he knows, he must know. How else does he know who you are?’ 

Then Kurapika blinked, and Shalnark was texting on his phone again. They were in the classroom again. Kurapika took a deep breath, looked at his own phone, and turned on selfie mode to inspect his eyes, finding relief that they were still brown. Sometimes his emotions got the better of him, made him feel and see things that weren’t actually there, made him lose his cool, forget his surroundings.

“Anyways, Kurapika,” Shalnark continued smiling, “If you want to succeed here, there are certain students here that are more beneficial to be friends with than others.”

Cryptic. 

That was the first word that instilled in Kurapika’s mind. He should just leave the conversation alone, but he couldn’t. Curiosity got the better of him.

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Hmm, well, if you want to know,” Shalnark’s green eyes flashed toward with him with excitement in them. “Come to the library with me after class.”

~~~*~~~

Kurapika knew he shouldn’t, but he found himself following Shalnark towards the library. He found himself making excuses as to why he was going with Shalnark:  
1\. He planned on checking out the library anyways.  
2\. It would be good to get a tour of the extensive library for future references.  
3\. He did want to succeed at this school; after all, his goal was to become so successful that when people found out about his curse, it wouldn’t matter to them.  
4\. He was curious about who Shalnark wanted to introduce him to.

The last excuse wasn’t a very good one. He had to admit that to himself. Following Shalnark broke his number one rule he made himself when he got here: do not make any friends. Technically, he wasn’t making friends with Shalnark though, and he wasn’t really planning on making friends with whoever he was about to meet. Also, there was Gon who seemed to have made an impression on him anyways. In other words, he had already dug himself a hole, and he was finding it difficult to climb out.

He stepped through the wooden double doors. He had only visited the Science campus so far, but as far as he could tell, this was the only building that seemed as if it hadn’t been updated, or at least, the school had tried to keep a traditional feel to the library. Just as he had read, the walls were lined with beautiful wooden bookcases, floor to ceiling. There were three floors of books although the building was one enormous room, with separate rooms branched out every now and then to be used as group study rooms. There was a variety of books present, new and old, and the library was organized by subject and then by author. Kurapika felt as if he had stepped into heaven; he already knew he was going to be spending most of his free time here, reading every book he could get his hands on.

Shalnark led him to one of the study rooms off to the left. As they approached, Kurapika noticed three individuals in the room. Two guys and one girl. The girl was petite with pink hair tied into a high ponytail. One of the guys, although sitting down, was extremely tall and muscular, with long dark grey hair that spiked backwards. The other guy was a lot slimmer with black hair and a white bandana tied around his forehead. They seemed to be in a deep conversation, and, yet, Shalnark didn’t knock before he entered. The conversation immediately halted in its tracks.

They all looked at him; Kurapika tried not to squirm.

“Danchou, this is the new kid I texted you about.” Kurapika found it weird that Shalnark called the slimmer teen “boss” but he didn’t say anything.

“Sit down,” the black haired teen motioned toward the seat across from him, next to the pink haired girl. 

Kurapika immediately sat down as Shalnark sat to the left of this so-called danchou. They all stared at him, as if they were trying to break him, turn him to a helpless pile of nerves, but Kurapika kept his shoulders back and squared, determined to appear confident. 

“I’m Kuroro,” the black haired teen stated. He motioned toward his companions, “This is Machi, and this is Uvo.”

“Kurapika.”

“I found it very strange that you transferred here in the middle of October,” Kuroro remarked.

Kurapika spent a few seconds within his mind, debating whether he should partially tell the truth. He believed that if he did, maybe they wouldn’t inquire further. Them taking his partial truth at face value had a high percentage of succeeding in convincing them that he was completely normal... that he was a normal.

“I just began living with a new foster parent.”

“I am sorry for your situation” Machi sympathized. “Most of us in the Phantom Troupe are in in foster homes or live with extended relatives as well.”

“The what?” Kurapika found himself asking.

“The Phantom Troupe,” Machi continued. “It’s what we call our social group. To help you understand, it’s equivalent to a fraternity or a sorority. Basically, we have a high standing and we typically throw parties around holidays or special events. We have many other responsibilities as well.”

Cryptic... once again.

“Which is why I said it was beneficial to make friends with us if you wish to succeed. We have special privileges,” Shalnark remarked as he continued to smile at his phone.

“I see,” Kurapika responded. He couldn’t help but wonder why they were so interested in him, unless they truly did know he was cursed. He didn’t have hard evidence to prove that they did know--he would need to find out, for his own safety. 

“We are throwing a party this Friday,” Kuroro stated, calmly, almost void of emotion. “For Halloween.”

“You’re officially invited,” Machi remarked as she worked on her Chemistry homework; she also seemed to be emotionless. 

Kurapika wasn’t sure if he wanted to go or not, but he remarked, “I will be there.”

“Awesome!” Uvo finally spoke and then proceeded with a loud, deep laugh. “I buy high quality beer. Get as drunk as you want!” 

Kurapika didn’t respond; at least Uvo seemed remotely normal, if not a little too energetic for someone his size. Instead, he watched Kuroro write something down in his notebook. He couldn’t help but notice the way he elegantly wrote, the way his slender fingers fit perfectly around the pen, the way his lips pressed together in concentration. Kuroro seemed to have that look that would make one believe all the girls trip over themselves to be near him.

Kurapika was curious about about Phantom Troupe and the purpose behind it. Could this group really promise him the success he would need in order to secure a profitable career, where his curse may mean nothing once he was important enough? Or were they they planning on destroying him because they knew what he was?

“We should probably start heading to class,” Machi said. She turned to Kurapika, “You’re a junior, aren’t you? What class do you have next?” 

“English.”

“I do too.”

Machi stood up. Kurapika assumed she meant that they should walk together; he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to walk with her, considering that might mean they should be friends, but he found his body standing up with her anyways. He supposed he should walk with her, if he really wanted to know more about this Phantom Troupe. He was nervous about what they knew about him. If they truly were out to get him, there was a saying that he should go by: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

Kuroro watched him stand up. There was something about the way he watched him leave the study room that made him feel anxious--in a good way and a bad way. It was as if Kuroro was analyzing and critiquing every move he made, studying him almost. Kurapika both wanted to never see him again and run into him without his fellow troupe members.

~~~*~~~

Machi didn’t sit next to him in English. She sat next to a short, black haired male student. They didn’t say more than a few words to each other but judging by the proximity between them, Kurapika ventured that the male might be a part of the Phantom Troupe as well. Relief washed over him; he had been worried that more people would be friendly with him. He made it through all of English without having to say a word to anyone. He thought a bigger school might mean he would blend in more, but, here he was, already being sought after. He even snuck out of class without having to even make eye contact with Machi.

The success of his “don’t make friends plan” diminished as soon as he stepped out of the English building as Gon stood at the bottom of the steps, rocking on the heels of his feet, most likely filled with the intention of dragging Kurapika off to have lunch with him and his friends. Kurapika knew that he could sneak by him and Gon wouldn’t be any the wiser, but then he imagined the disappointed look on Gon’s face and he found himself walking towards him.

“Hello, Gon.”

The bright smile on Gon’s face could rival the sun’s rays. “Kurapika! Let’s have lunch together. I’ll introduce you to Killua and Leorio!”

“Sure.”

The cafeteria was located on the main campus, near the admissions office where he had first met Gon. As they walked through the crowd of people to get to the food court within the cafeteria, he found himself looking among the faces, as if he was expecting to find Kuroro and his friends. He was only greeted by strangers. Gon happily chatted about what he usually ate among the various choices the court had to offer.

He ended up choosing the chicken salad while Gon chose pizza. Gon then led him to his friends, who looked like they were having a playful argument. Gon introduced him to both teens. Killua was a freshman like Gon; he sported white hair and a skater look. In fact, he did skate. Leorio was a senior. He dressed very formal, had short, black spiky hair, and wore glasses. His aspiration was to go to medical school; Kurapika admired him for it. He told them that he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do, except that he knew it involved the justice system.

“You could be a cop,” Killua offered nonchalantly. 

“Or a detective!” Gon beamed.

Kurapika risked asking them about the Phantom Troupe.

“They invited you to their Halloween party?! On your first day here?!” Leorio was flabbergasted. 

“Is that shocking?” Kurapika asked, taking a bite from his salad.

“Well, freshman and sophomores aren’t invited, usually. Unless they are deemed worthy. So it’s a little surprising you, on your first day here, were invited to the party,” Killua explained while he drank from his chocolate milkshake. 

“I see.”

“Basically the Phantom Troupe controls the school. They even influence the teachers,” Gon stated with admiration. “I tried talking to Nobunaga a few times. He seemed to like me but he said I had a lot to learn. So I wasn’t invited to the start of the year party. Killua was though...” Gon pouted at this. 

“I didn’t go. Seemed boring. Plus, Illumi was going to be there,” Killua sighed.

“How do they control the school?” Kurapika was curious how a group of students could be so influential, especially when it came to the teachers.

“No one really knows. But everyone is pretty sure it has to do with Lucilfer Kuroro.” Leorio tsked.

Silence enveloped them as they continued eating. Kuroro’s image danced in his mind. According to Leorio, Kuroro was influential--seemed to be able to pull strings that others could not. Although Kurapika didn’t spend much time around him, the small amount of time he was around him, he could tell that Kuroro was calm, collected, and in charge most of the time. Kurapika wanted to know more about him, which frightened him because he originally wanted nothing to do with anyone. And yet, he was sitting here with Gon and his friends, wanting to stay here, and also deeply interested in a mysterious group that seemed to run the school. Maybe he should embrace this. Maybe investing himself might help him in someway. Maybe dropping the fear of becoming discovered as a cursed might help him avoid being discovered. He took another bite of his salad. Or maybe he was just telling himself lies to make up for the fact that he was already in too deep with the acquaintances that he has made. 

A few seconds later, Killua and Gon began chatting happily about various things. They even got into a small food fight. Kurapika found himself smiling and laughing at the things they were saying and doing. 

And he then decided that he was just going to ride things out and see where they take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways, I am trying to keep things pretty realistic by not having Kurapika notice anything in particular about Kuroro. I suppose what I mean is that I always find it weird when writers just suddenly make two characters like each other. Does that make sense? Let me know what you think or if you have suggestions. After all, I feel like a noob with writing since it's been so long since I have written a story.


	4. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika finds running a little difficult during track and field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is a bit short, but the next chapter should be much longer, plus I have a teacher work day tomorrow so I am trying to lesson plan so I didn't have as much time to write. Not looking forward to going back to being an adult!

All students were required to practice a sport; this replaced the typical gym class. He wasn’t afraid of athletics; in fact, he excelled at them. Agility was his strong suit and since he wasn’t a fan of complicated lists of rules, he signed up for track and field. Sport practice took place Friday morning, every week. It was a double block class, filling two slots worth of classes; Kurapika was a little discouraged at being physical for almost 3 hours (luckily, they still have break from 9:30-10 and they finished with 20 minutes until lunch to shower and change.)

Having already thought Heavens Academy was large and extravagant, with its multiple campuses, shock enveloped him when he found there were separate campuses for most of the sports, and there were still some sports that carpooled off campus to practice such as hockey and swimming. 

When he arrived to the track and field’s locker room to try out his assigned locker and to change, thoughts of the Halloween party tonight jumped into this head. He hadn’t decided if he wanted to attend yet, but, if he chose to go, Leorio had offered to attend with him. Kurapika had to be honest; at first, he thought Leorio was a selfish narcissist, even with his goal of becoming a doctor, but after speaking to him throughout the week and watching how he interacted with Gon and Killua, he couldn’t help but like him. He might even push to say that he got along with Leorio most.

Kurapika ignored the hustle and bustle of the other students who were in track and field. Most of them were conversing with each other as they changed into their tracksuits. Sport practice was the only class that had a mix of class years. As he slipped off his shirt, Kurapika recognized some of the juniors from his classes all week, but the two juniors he has held a conversation with--Machi and Shalnark--were not present. Clearly, they were registered with a different sport.

Shalnark has been quite friendly with him, sitting next to him and talking with him during the classes they had together. The whole situation left an unsettling feeling with Kurapika; he couldn’t help it but over-analyze Shalnark’s friendliness. Especially when the only other conversation Machi had with Kurapika involved asking to borrow a pencil and requesting he show up to the Halloween party; she didn’t say “or else” at the end of her request, but she might as well have said it, what with the tone of her voice and all.

Kurapika stuffed his clothes into his locker and removed his issued black tracksuit from his bag. After he had slipped into his pants, he heard a familiar voice behind him. Trying to not look conspicuous, Kurapika turned his head slightly to sneak a peek, pretending that he needed to turn his head in order to put on his undershirt.

The locker across from his, a mere ten feet away, was owned by the leader of the Phantom Troupe, Lucilfer Kuroro. He was chatting with a taller, thin senior, who held his hair in a high ponytail. They were discussing details about the party tonight.  
Kurapika finished adjusting his undershirt as he watched them. Considering their backs were to him, he wagered they wouldn’t know he was eavesdropping. 

Currently undressing, Kuroro remarked, “You know how I feel about inviting underclassmen, what with the amount of alcohol present.”

“This kid won’t touch it though. You should meet him; he’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but he’s charismatic and funny,” his friend stated. “He is definitely someone the Phantom Troupe should keep their eyes on.”

Kuroro turned to face his friend, forcing Kurapika to look away and pretend that he was focusing on zipping up his track jacket. But before he looked away, he couldn’t help but take notice to Kuroro’s “physical condition,” for the lack of a better phrase. Kuroro wasn’t just slim as he originally thought; he was quite well-defined. Yes, the girls probably loved him. 

Kurapika’s heart raced--probably from the fear of almost being caught eavesdropping. He placed his hand over his heart and closed his eyes, willing them to stay brown. The rest of Kuroro’s conversation with his friend was completely drowned out by the sound of Kurapika’s beating heart.

And then he almost jumped out of his skin at the touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder. He quickly regained his composure; it was so unlike him to be victim of such nervousness in such a simple setting as class time.

“Kurapika,” a cool voice met his ear. Kurapika slowly turned around, feeling the hand leave his shoulder as he did. Kuroro’s dark gray eyes locked with his brown ones as he stood inches away from him. Kurapika couldn’t help but notice he was still shirtless. “Shalnark had told me that you signed up for track and field as your sport.”

Kurapika wondered why they spoke about him privately and then didn’t have any shame in admitting they spoke about him; they treated him as if he was a celebrity, but he supposed it was understandable, being fresh meat and all.

“I find running is my forte.”

Kuroro smiled at his response, “I see sarcasm might be your forte as well.” When Kurapika didn’t respond, Kuroro introduced him to his friend, who was finishing dressing into his tracksuit. “This is Nobunaga. He was trying to convince me to invite your new friend Gon to the party, but you knew that, considering you were unabashedly listening.”

Kurapika mastered keeping a straight face, even though he had been caught and was embarrassed, quite the opposite of what Kuroro thought. He changed the subject, “How do you know I am friends with Gon.”

Kuroro smiled slyly, “You’ll find that I know many things.” He turned his back on Kurapika to finish dressing. As Kurapika decided to make his leave toward the track for practice, Kuroro insisted, “I expect to see you tonight at my estate for the party.” 

Judging by the tone of his voice, there was no room for argument. “Of course.”

~~~*~~~

They say running can help one’s mind empty itself, that one can lose oneself in the combination of exhaustion and adrenaline in the thrill of a good run, but Kurapika felt as if his mind was on overdrive. All through the mile run, all he could think about was Kuroro--the way he spoke with such confidence, the way he smiled at him, the way he held himself... the way he seemed to know something about Kurapika. Strange emotions fluttered in his chest, his hands were sweating more than they should, and his heart galloped in his chest at an alarming rate. And Kurapika couldn’t keep his eyes off Kuroro’s back as he ran behind him. 

He wanted to run as far away from Kuroro as possible; it would be safer for him that way. But he also wanted to pick up the pace, extend his fingers forward and brush them against his back.

To demand what Kuroro knew about him, of course.

Kuroro crossed the finish line. Kurapika passed it a few seconds after him, making sure to run off to the side so he wasn’t in the way of the other runners. The enervation of the run catching up with him, Kurapika leaned forward to catch his breath, resting his hands against his knees for support.

About 20 seconds passed and Kurapika straightened his posture. He glanced toward the coach, ready to ask for his time. Instead of looking at the coach, however, his eyes were captured. Kuroro stood on the other side of the trail, attention completely focused on him. Kurapika immediately broke the eye contact.

Why?

That was all he could ask himself.

Why is he looking at him?

Kurapika risked a glance back at Kuroro; he was still looking at him, but this time that sly smile graced his lips. Kurapika could feel the sweat dripping down his face, the clammy feel of his palms, and the anxiety building up in his veins, as if spiders were crawling within him, searching for the perfect place to spin their webs.

He was about to cross the trail to demand that Kuroro tell him why he was looking at him, but, when Nobunaga crossed the finish line, Kuroro broke their staring contest to speak with him. They walked toward the high jump area, leaving Kurapika behind, confused as to what exactly just happened between Kuroro and himself. 

~~~*~~~

Kurapika was embarrassed to admit that he couldn’t take his eyes off Kuroro for the rest of track and field, even though Kuroro didn’t spare him another glance the entire time. As Kurapika stood in the shower, letting the hot water spray over his fatigued body, he wondered about what type of person Kuroro was. He unsettled him ten times more than Shalnark did. With Shalnark, Kurapika was bothered by how he always seemed happy. With Kuroro, it was different. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was though.  
Kurapika turned off the water, dried off, and dressed in the shower stall. He then proceeded back to his locker to deposit his sweaty tracksuit into his bag to take home to wash. Kuroro was at his locker alone, buttoning his shirt. He had a new, clean bandana tied around his forehead. 

Kuroro caught Kurapika looking, and as he slid his messenger bag over his shoulder, he smirked, “I will be waiting for you tonight.” With those words, he was out the door of the locker room.

The hell?

That unwarranted confidence!

That arrogant look!

The heat that was rushing to Kurapika’s face.

He did not like Kuroro, he decided. But he would go to the party anyways, because he was now sure that Kuroro was up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter.  
> Next week I am returning to teaching my naughty middle schoolers and starting graduate school again. My goal is to update this story every 1 to 2 weeks. If I go two weeks without an update, send me some encouraging messages!   
> Next chapter has a bit of Leorio in it, so if you have any suggestions about writing him let me know, because I am nervous about making him out of character.


	5. An Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika attends Kuroro's Halloween party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next update! It is longer as promised. I am still trying to decide what I want to happen next. I have a few ideas! Tuesday is a Snow Day (a teacher's favorite holiday) so I am going to start rough drafting the next chapter in between teacher work!

Senritsu did not want him to go to the party. They were sitting on the gray sofa in the living room. Senritsu lived in a small house, with just enough living space for the two of them; however, if they had both been materialistic, the house would have been too small. Kurapika now owned the guest bedroom. She had told him to make it his own; the only thing he has changed was creating a small shrine for his deceased family members.

She had been very lenient so far, letting him stay up late where past foster parents insisted that he went to bed at 9pm every night and letting him pick out what to buy when they went grocery shopping instead of being forced to eat food he didn’t like. He knew she would put her foot down eventually, but he was hoping it wouldn’t be tonight. Kurapika was already dressed in a casual black suit and jacket and was waiting for Leorio to pick him up. 

“I can tell many things by your heartbeat,” she calmly told him. Before he could stop her, she started listing off all the embarrassing things he was feeling, “You’re concerned because of substances present at this party, which is my main reason why I do not want you to go. You’re apprehensive because of another student who...” she paused with her eyes closed to listen carefully to his heartbeat, “...might be up to something. You’re determined to go to figure out what this person is doing, but you’re also feeling cautious because you do not want anyone to find out you are cursed.”

She wasn’t smiling, but he felt as if she should be since she accurately described everything that was going on inside of him.

“I don’t plan on taking part in the consumption of illegal substances,” he reassured her.

She frowned at him and continued, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but..”

Kurapika remained calm, “I understand. You’ve only known me for less than a week and everything else you know is from my paperwork, but I am almost positive my paperwork says that I am not a rebellious teen who gets into mischief.”

“You are correct, but it does say that you get yourself into situations that cause your scarlet eyes to activate.”

The doorbell saved him from having to talk about those mistakes with Senritsu, but he was sure she already knew about each one of them from his paperwork filed by his previous foster parents and case manager. 

He was with his first foster parents for two years. He truly didn’t have any quality of life with them; in fact, he doesn’t remember what they look like or even what their names were. He spent most of his time in mourning over his massacred clan, locked up in his room, trying to escape reality through books and schoolwork. His scarlet eyes revealed that he was cursed at school one day when a group of kids were bullying him for always reading, for not having any friends. One minute they were laughing in his face, the next they had their backs against the wall as he threatened them, ordering them to leave him alone. 

Morel, his case manager at the time, spoke with him about how important it was to keep his emotions in check or else he would be discovered again--for not even color contacts could hide his eyes when they were at their brightest. Kurapika had wanted to tell him that those bullies harassed him every day, that he finally had to stand up for himself, but Morel was too quick to introduce him to a new town with a new set of parents without truly listening to what he had to say. 

He was with his second foster parents for about a year. They say 13 year olds think the world revolve around them. It’s was partially true for him. He got in a fight with his foster parents in front of company, over something petty, and, once again, he was shipped off to a new home; he would be lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat relieved. He didn’t care for his foster parents, as they often spoke down to him, and the kids at that middle school were particularly mean. He had tried to make friends that year, but he was ostracized because he had made the mistake of telling them he was kicked out his last school, and when he wouldn’t tell the other students why, they assumed it was something embarrassing. They teased him relentlessly. It was a struggle every day at school, keeping his eyes in check, so when he came home, he had, as what his foster parents called them, unnecessary tantrums. They chose to give him up for they believed he might become dangerous.

His two years with his most recent foster parent went fairly well. Kurapika had made a few friends, and when bullies picked on him, he handled it with calm wit. His foster parents were nice, but they weren’t involved in anything he was interested in, as they were only interested in strict rules that Kurapika must follow. He followed them, and so they got along. Things were going pretty great until Homecoming this past September. One of the popular girls at school had a crush on him; trivial crushes were matters he ignored. She wouldn’t take rejection; she had convinced the jocks of the school that he had used vulgar language and physical violence against her when she was just trying to be kind to him. Kurapika had found himself in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a bunch of idiots who wanted to beat the living daylights out of him. Although he stepped away unharmed, having been able to dodge and defend himself with ease, his eyes had burned scarlet, earning him a one way ticket out of that town, leaving a trail of bribes from the Hunter Association for Kurapika’s curse to be kept a secret.

And here he was, with his fourth foster parent, wanting to abide by her rules, but also needing to find out what Kuroro was hiding. 

Senritsu answered the door, letting Leorio in. He greeted her warmly and politely, which almost took Kurapika by surprised, considering how he could be crude at times. It seemed Leorio knew how to tailor to his audience. 

“I am unsure about allowing Kurapika to go this party.”

“You don’t have to worry,” he reassured her with a smile. “You can trust me to watch him.” 

Kurapika felt as if Leorio would need to watched in his stead, considering how he had been talking excitedly about the free booze all week.

“Kurapika tells me that you’re a senior.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Leorio grinned, a cheesy one at that.

“What are you doing after high school?”

Puffing out his chest in pride, Leorio stated, “I am going to medical school to be a doctor!”

Senritsu smiled softly and remarked, “Well, you do seem like a nice and compassionate young man.” This statement made Kurapika wonder what she could hear from his heartbeat if she seemed to be changing her mind about letting him go. Leorio’s entire face turned beat red. Senritsu turned to Kurapika, “Stay together and promise me that you will not touch or take any illegal substances... and keep yourself in check.”

In other words, Senritsu was trusting him as well as warning him to not lose his cool at this party. He promised her, also not wanting a repeat of that Homecoming dance. 

~~~*~~~

A valet took Leorio’s car keys, leaving them to stare up at the large manor in front of them. The estate had to have at least 5,000 square feet. Breathtaking green grass spread out across the entire estate, minus for the large driveway now situated behind Leorio and Kurapika, and an accumulation of trees aligned around the property. There were an assortment of statues and trimmed bushes and trees in strategic places across the grounds; Kurapika couldn’t help but admire the beautiful gray, brick paths that led throughout the gardens and the hand-carved concrete benches along that path.

The manor itself rivaled its magnificent land. It towered over all the teenagers that entered. White elegant bricks fortified the interior from the ground to three stories high. It had aesthetic bay windows outlining most of the residence. Stunning green bushes and flower beds of all colors mimicked a moat around the place. 

Leorio began climbing the clean, white staircase to the front doors. Kurapika slowly followed, still trying to absorb the beauty that was Kuroro’s home. 

Upon entering, Kurapika was greeted by thunderous music and intense dancing. It appeared that most of the party was taking place in the large foyer, although Kurapika was sure plenty of the other rooms were inhabited by teenagers as well. And although the party had just begun half an hour ago, a mess of solo cups and paper plates with discarded food were littered everywhere, forcing the help of the manor to skillfully glide between adolescents in attempt to keep the place clean as the party continued. 

The foyer currently resembled a nightclub, with a DJ stationed right in front of the oak grand staircase that led to the second floor, which had been barricaded with various sound equipment. At least 50 students were dancing in front of the DJ station while 30 or so students lined the walls talking, either sitting on plastic-wrapped canapés and dainty couches or standing in groups. Almost everyone had a cup in their hand, filled with Kurapika could only guess was alcohol-based. He could also smell the musky scent of marijuana off in the distance. 

“Hey, I am going to grab a beer from the kitchen,” Leorio shouted over the music. “Did you want to come with?” Senritsu wouldn’t approve so he declined. Plus, drinking wasn’t appealing. Leorio grinned, “Alright, I will be right back!”

With that, Leorio was weaving, clumsily, between people toward the left archway, which Kurapika assumed led to the kitchen and dining area. Kurapika began to wonder what he was going to do while he waited for Leorio to return, but his concern was cut short by a slap on the shoulder.

“You made it,” Shalnark beamed at him. 

Looking at the beer in Shalnark’s hand, Kurapika responded, “Of course. Leorio and I just arrived.”

“And it seems you lost him already,” Shalnark took a sip from his can. “You want to sit down?” 

Kurapika nodded and followed Shalnark to an open canapé. They sat down as Shalnark offered him a sip of his drink, which Kurapika promptly denied. Even if he was curious about what the beer tasted like, he didn’t want to break Senritsu’s trust in him. 

He decided to strike up a conversation, “This place is very extensive.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Shalnark smiled, obviously being much more relaxed now that he was drinking. “Kuroro’s foster father is a mob boss so they’re wealthy. Oh, don’t look surprised. Everyone already knows, and there are quite a few mobs here in Yorknew. It’s both a dangerous and safe place to live. It all depends on whose good and bad side you are on.”

“And this mob boss is fine with Kuroro throwing these parties in this elegant manor?” Kurapika asked; he continuously switched his attention between tipsy Shalnark and the crazed dancing in the middle of the foyer, keeping an eye out for either Leorio or Kuroro.

“Of course. Kuroro and his foster sister get whatever they want.”

Shocked, Kurapika asked, “Kuroro has a sister?”

“Neon. She is Nostrade’s biological daughter. Light Nostrade is the mob boss who fosters Kuroro,” Shalnark informed as he pointed at a skinny, blue haired girl in the corner of the room, surrounded by a large group of friends. “Kuroro and Neon never talk to each other in public; Kuroro says she’s too immature to hold a conversation with. I have to agree.”

Shalnark immediately shifted to a different conversation about a new game he downloaded onto his phone. While switching to chugging his beer instead of casually sipping, he whipped his phone out of nowhere to show Kurapika, who feigned interest in it. Kurapika hoped he could get additional details about Kuroro’s home life out of Shalnark later, maybe after the blonde has had more to drink and was a little more loose with information. The more information he had, the better armed he would be if Kuroro did have something up his sleeve.

“Oi! Kurapika! Let’s dance!” screamed Leorio’s voice. 

Kurapika’s head shot up from Shalnark’s phone to Leorio who was doing the liquid dance move, threatening close to other dancers’ heads. Shalnark’s attention was also torn away from his phone, and laughter erupted from him at the sight of Leorio.  
Grabbing Kurapika by the elbow, he insisted, “Let’s join your friend. It would be a crime to not have as much fun as him, even if his dancing is terrible.”

As Shalnark dragged him toward Leorio, who was chaotically dancing toward the middle of the crowd, Kurapika couldn’t help but feel nervous. As terrible at dancing as Leorio was, it was better than not knowing how to dance at all. Granted, Kurapika did know how to ballroom dance, but he doubted anyone would take kindly to him ballroom dancing when everyone else was grinding, shaking their hips, and throwing their hands in the air. 

Unknown bodies bumped into his as he was led through the chaos. Sweaty skin brushed against his hands, out-of-key singing echoed in his ears, and Shalnark’s fingers slipped from his arm, leaving him alone in the middle of the dancefloor, unsure of where Shalnark or Leorio were. 

He frantically looked around him, trying to either find a familiar face or a way out. There was something about tight spaces that made him uncomfortable. He wondered if it stemmed from his childhood. He tried to keep his cool. Why was he acting like this? This wasn’t like him. Taking a deep breath, he spun around and tried to push his way through the crowd, but his need to escape was only met with exasperated gasps and cursing.

Suddenly, he felt an opening behind him, as if the people behind him were moving out of the way. In a rush to claim the area, Kurapika swung around and found himself pressed against a familiar body. 

His fingers unconsciously curled around the lapels of a black suit as the suit’s owner possessively placed his hands on his hips. His body froze. A warm breath caressed his ear; he could practically feel a smile form on the lips that emitted that breath. He felt as if everyone was looking at him, although he knew these teens were too preoccupied in their own worlds to pay him any mind.

He leaned back to lock eyes with the person holding him. A sly smile greeted him.

“You should be careful,” that smile spoke loudly above the music and screaming.

It felt as if everyone on the dance floor and in the manor had vanished--that it was just the two of them standing there, shadows enveloping them in a tight embrace. Kurapika felt as if Kuroro had whispered those words to him.

Kuroro released him, leaving a burning sensation where his hands had been. If Kuroro hadn’t taken a step back from him, Kurapika wouldn’t have had the thought to create distance between them. His mind raced with both clarity and confusion, and, for him, that was abnormal. His thoughts were typically concise and focused, even when his emotions were running high. He prided himself on his ability to think clearly and logically when presented with a difficult situation. And yet, with just the touch of his hands, Kuroro had left his mind disoriented, and Kurapika couldn’t help it but wonder if he felt threatened by the mysterious nature of the man in front of him.

Kuroro mused, “Have you already had too much to drink?”

“I haven’t had anything to drink,” Kurapika countered, as if he was defending his honor.

Ignoring the argumentative tone in Kurapika’s voice, Kuroro offered his hand. “Care to dance?” 

Kurapika glared at his hand, not wanting to admit to him that he didn’t know how to dance. Kuroro, seemingly unwilling to wait for a reply, seized Kurapika’s wrist and yanked him toward him. Shock danced through Kurapika’s veins as he found his body pressed against Kuroro’s again as the song playing overhead suddenly switched to a much more mellow beat, as if the DJ knew that Kuroro had wanted to slow dance. Kuroro laced his fingers in Kurapika’s left hand while his right hand rested on the small of Kurapika’s back. He then proceeded to lead Kurapika through a slow dance, all the while smirking about it.

Kurapika didn’t know what was worse: the heated blush he felt in his cheeks or the fact that nobody cared that he was slow dancing with Kuroro.

“Don’t get the wrong impression,” Kuroro started. “This is just the easiest way for me to talk to you.” Kurapika didn’t know how this was the easiest way, but he held his tongue. “You see, I am quite interested in the circumstance at which you came to Yorknew City. It’s all very secretive. As you have learned from Shalnark, I had the fortunate chance of being fostered by Light Nostrade. I get whatever I want one way or another. And when I heard about you, I immediately tried to find out everything I could. Regrettably, every lead I follow ends up cold. I was hoping you could shed some light on your mysterious past.”

Kurapika’s blood chilled.

“Why would you want to know about me?”

Kuroro smirked, “You see, I like rare things, and you are quite rare.”

Too nervous to ask what Kuroro meant by “rare,” Kurapika just answered confidently, “It wouldn’t be very fair if I told you everything there is about me without learning anything about you in exchange.”

Kuroro’s eyes seemed to sparkle at Kurapika’s request at an exchange of information. Kurapika’s breathing hitched as Kuroro slowly drew closer to him. He could feel his warm breath on his lips.

“Very well,” he whispered; Kurapika could barely hear him over the slow, romantic song. “If you would like to exchange information, come find me. If you can sneak your way onto the third floor and find me around midnight, I will agree to this one time exchange.”

With those words, Kuroro released him and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Kurapika strangely flustered, curious, and frightened all at the same time.

~~~*~~~

The night seemed to drag on. He kept checking his phone, counting down the minutes until midnight, as he searched for the best way to sneak up to the third floor. It appeared that every staircase was guarded by a bouncer of some sort. Kuroro was clearly testing him, for what, he had no idea. 

So Kurapika found himself walking among the crowds of adolescents, stepping over teens who have already passed out from an overconsumption of alcohol and drugs. Solo cups crunched under the weight of those stumbling around him. Giggles, sighs, and screams of ecstasy were audible from some of the rooms as youths hooked up in secret. Courage had blossomed among the smokers as they blew smoke from either cigarettes or pot down the hallways. Even with the distance between Kurapika and the foyer, the walls vibrated from the bass of the speakers.

How could a place as elegant as this turn to complete trash in a matter of hours?

He neared the end of the hallway.

A young girl, probably a freshman, stumbled out of the room Kurapika had passed. She fell to her knees and started heaving. A putrid smell soon followed; Kurapika refused to turn around. His eyes locked on the bouncer a few feet away, who had immediately sprinted from his post, in a pathetic attempt in stopping the poor girl from vomiting all over the nice carpet. 

As he passed Kurapika to rush to the girl’s side, Kurapika couldn’t help but smile, as the the staircase he was blocking was now unguarded. The bouncer didn’t notice as he quietly slipped up the stairs.

It was 11:30. 

He didn’t have much time to find Kuroro.

He walked down an empty corridor, one lined with expensive antiques. Kurapika admired them as he listened for any sign of someone being present on the floor, but all he could hear was the thundering of incoherent music two floors below. Curiosity overcame him as he attempted to open some of the doors that spaced the walls he followed. He was disappointed to find that they were locked, most likely to deter anyone who did make it past a bouncer from exploring and entering rooms.

Soon he found himself entering a hallway that consisted of nothing but high windows, a hallway where he could stare out at the starry night. As he was admiring the peaceful night beyond the chaos of the party, he noticed a silhouette standing on the balcony facing the gardens. As he drew closer to the middle of the glass hallway, he came across a glass double door. Without hesitation, he pushed through the doors onto the balcony. 

Kuroro stood with his back to him, his pale hands resting on the intricate, white, iron railing. Kurapika’s shadow, generated from the fluorescent lights of the hallway, reached Kuroro’s body as he stepped outside. The glass door clicked behind him, but Kuroro didn’t turn around.

Instead, he addressed the night sky, “I was growing bored, waiting for you.”

“Strange, considering there is a party going on. But I imagine you're not into parties, unlike what you want the school to believe,” mused Kurapika. 

“Networking is critical for success.”

Although he agreed with Kuroro’s statement, he couldn’t see how parties of this nature would have any play in networking. Nonetheless, Kuroro seemed to have been living this lifestyle for awhile, while Kurapika was only familiar with small towns. It wasn’t unlikely that he could simply be naive about Yorknew City, and maybe obnoxious parties did have sway in whatever Kuroro was planning, assuming that Kurapika was correct in thinking that he was up to something. Afterall, Kuroro did live with a mob boss. Anything could be possible, and the doors that this teen could open were endless, if Kuroro had Kurapika’s best interest in heart. 

Kurapika would need to keep his guard up; his supposition told him that Kuroro wasn’t to be trusted and until the Phantom Troupe leader could prove time and time again that he was wrong in his suspicions, no true secrets would be passed between them.

“I will share two pieces of information about me in exchange for the same from you. Be sure to choose your words carefully,” Kuroro smiled artfully.

“I am interested to know how you and your troupe have so much sway with Heavens Academy.”

The Phantom Troupe leader became all business when he spoke:

“Having a mob boss as a foster parent is very profitable. Nostrade donates a considerable sum of money and protection to the academy every year. He even throws in bonuses to the staff that receive ‘good reviews’ from Neon and I. She uses her advantages for perfect marks; I, on the other hand, who could pass any class with little exertion, use Nostrade’s influence to avoid disciplinary action. Teachers often look the other way or punish other students in my stead, and since my classmates do not want to be indicted for my transgressions, they do their best to stay on my good side.”

Kurapika really wanted to ask what corrupt behavior Kuroro participated in, but he didn’t want to use his other question on something he felt he could find out on his own. Nevertheless, hearing Kuroro speak so casually about doing wrong with no remorse for those who suffered in his stead buried a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach. What type of person was the man in front of him? Kurapika may not be perfect and he may have committed acts of violence, but he always felt guilty about it later. Kurapika took pride in justice, and yet, here was a man in front of him that seemed to misuse and abuse the people around him simply because he could. And what was worse was that Kurapika would normally isolate himself from people like Kuroro, and, despite that, Kurapika was still standing here, wanting to know more about him, interested in this man’s twisted life. 

He felt cold inside.

“I see.”

“Now,” Kuroro began, a vacant expression present, “Why have you resided with multiple foster parents? There are a few of us in the Phantom Troupe who live with foster parents, but none of them have lived with as many families as you have.”

He needed to word this carefully; he needed to give enough information for the story to be plausible, but still vague enough for the Phantom Troupe leader not to question that he may be cursed. 

Confidently, Kurapika spoke,“I am particularly skillful at remaining calm, at looking at a situation logically and developing a solution to it. Even so, when I do become upset, I lose my composure and make rash decisions. Those rash decisions are the reason why I did not remain with my previous foster parents. I screwed up at school with classmates and I behaved immaturely with one of my foster parents.”

When Kuroro didn’t respond to his admission and simply stared, in thought, at the grooves in the balcony floor, Kurapika asked, “Why do you get whatever you want from Nostrade?”

Kuroro’s eyes gleamed as an unsettling smirk spread across his visage. The cold feeling inside Kurapika’s chest warmed, as if a fire ignited in his gut. The little hairs on his arms stood on end as his adrenaline coursed through his body in preparation for a nonexistent fight. He willed his exterior to appear unaffected; his pride refused to let Kuroro see the fear that he instilled within him.

“I was chosen for a very specific reason. Having never known my parents as they vanished shortly after I was born, I have always been in foster care. Like you, I have lived with various families. Nostrade is my fifth foster parent and he paid a hefty price to release me from my previous foster parents when I was 12. Nostrade recognized my talent and charisma and decided that I could serve a greater purpose among his organization. In exchange for my services to his association, he lets me have free reign as well as live here with him and his daughter as his foster son.”

“What is the service that you provide?” 

“That would be a third request of information. In addition, your information about your past was lacking. Perhaps when you are willing to share more details, I will return the favor.”

A innocent, yet sick smile played on his lips. Kurapika didn’t miss a beat.

“I do not want to play any games. I want to finish school alone.”

Kuroro’s smile didn’t falter as he remarked, “And yet, you already have quite a fan club.”

“I do not want friends.”

“Regardless of whether you remain friends with Leorio and the others or even if you want to be friends with them, I do encourage you to remain in touch with the Phantom Troupe and I, as we can offer you countless benefits.”

He continued to smile as Kurapika turned his back on him, intrigued as to why Kuroro was persistent to have him around,“I’ll consider it.”

“Good,” Kuroro’s voice lulled behind him. “And if you should like to exchange information again, I would be interested.”

Kurapika left Kuroro on the balcony without an response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there is anything that seems inconsistent since I did write this bit by bit over the past week and I might have screwed something up! Also, encouragement is great as I want to be updating every one to two weeks!


	6. Sabotage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika finds himself blocked by an unforeseen obstacle during his tour of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. My research class for graduate school has a lot more to it than I thought it would. Plus, I am getting ready to start tutoring (case study for graduate school) and teaching isn't a walk in the park either. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Not sure if I would consider it my best writing.

A cheerful tune sang from his phone. Kurapika, having been lying awake for hours in his bed for no other reason than to be alone to reflect, slowly reached toward the bedside table for his new phone. Senritsu bought it for him after school on Monday, as both a gift and a ways to communicate. He remembered taking it to school on Tuesday, fidgeting with it during Psychology class. Shalnark had recognized it as the latest model and was more than willing to introduce all its features in exchange for being able to try out those said features. Then Gon and the others pestered him for his phone number until he finally had to give in and swap numbers with them.

Kurapika lifted the ringing phone in front of him. Gon’s name flashed across the screen.

It was 10 am--late enough for someone to bother him but still too early to socialize. He answered the phone out of courtesy.

“Kurapika!” Gon’s excited, sunny voice chirped through the speaker. “I was thinking, since you’re new and all, that it would be fun if you got a tour of the city! So I called Killua and Leorio to see what they were doing today and they thought it was a good idea too! So here I am, calling you and asking if you wanted to hang out with us today and see all the cool places!”

No.

Just no.

Kurapika couldn’t imagine what could possibly make Gon’s believe that he would want that. Glancing across the room to the mirror at his right, the expression on his own face answered his own question. Of course Gon would believe he would want that. Kurapika has eaten lunch with them all week, he’s been nothing but polite, he’s held actual conversations like friends with them, and he even went to a party with Leorio--even though he lost him at the start of the dance.

Those are simply details really. Just facts he couldn’t go back and change.

Nonetheless, Gon was so happy-go-lucky that he probably couldn’t even fathom someone not wanting to spend time with him and his friends.

Kurapika would need to lie.

“I already have plans with Senritsu, my new foster mother. I apologize.”

He hung up before Gon could even respond. He knew that if he heard even one sad syllable in Gon’s words, he would cave. Although he was trying his best to not make friends, he couldn’t deny that he also craved human contact. After all, humans want what is denied to them, and he has struggled with building and maintaining friendships, so it would make sense why he would want healthy relationships. How else could he explain that he willingly walked with Gon to lunch all week, not even bothering to come up with an excuse? How else could he explain why he actually enjoyed the conversations he had with them? He even remembered trying to convince himself that making friends was a good thing.

He shot those thoughts in the head that very night; if they found out he was cursed, they would all leave him. He didn’t want to lose any more people in his life. So the rational course of action is to not let anyone in.

And yet, even with the fear of being discovered and then abandoned, he still talked to everyone the next day.

His phone started ringing again, startling him since he had hung up on Gon only five minutes ago. Nonetheless, instead of Gon’s name on his screen, Leorio’s name flashed. Ignoring it would be the best option, but curiosity got the best of him.

When the phone was still inches from his ear, he heard Leorio scream, “Bastard! How dare you make Gon upset?! I specifically remember you telling me that you weren’t doing anything today! I will be there to pick you up in an hour!”

Click!

Dumbstruck, he slowly pulled his phone away from his ear to stare at his home screen. Surprisingly, Leorio can remember well when intoxicated. Also it turns out that his encounter with Kuroro made him forget his conversation with Leorio on the drive home. He had been so consumed with his thoughts that he just mindlessly conversed with his drunk passenger--as Kurapika drove them back to his new home as he didn’t trust his life in his hands. Not to mention, when he had returned home, he had tossed and turned restlessly in his bed thinking about the Phantom Troupe leader and what was to happen between them, not shedding a thought about anything or anyone else.

Sighing, Kurapika pulled himself out of bed to get ready for the day.

~~~*~~~

Yes, he had travelled a bit in the city when he first arrived here, but travelling by foot was a whole different experience. Buildings of various sizes surrounded him. At first, it felt as if the buildings were plotting against him, devising a plan to gang up and crush him, but after focusing on his company’s chatter, he became accustomed to the towering structures around him. In fact, he found the bustling city quite charming; it was a place filled with unique personalities, a place that he could easily blend in.

Gon’s plan was to just sporadically decide where to visit; fortunately, Killua had made a list to keep them on schedule. Gon was upset about the list at first, but when he saw all his favorite places listed, he brightened up. The first place on the list was a local coffee shop, Echo Cafe, where students from Heavens Academy liked to frequent after school and on the weekends.

“I like the smoothies here,” Gon piped as he pushed the glass door of the coffee shop open. 

“The white chocolate mocha is good too,” Killua stated, nonchalantly.

The cafe was very modern. Dark wooden floors rested below Kurapika’s feet as they took him toward the marble counter where he was expected to place his order for a caffeinated beverage. Small circular tables rested in the corners and walls of the coffee shop; antique metal chairs surrounded each table; some of the tables owned only two chairs while others owned four. Beige buttoned cushions rested on each chair. Between and around the tables were metal shelves holding bags of coffee, mugs, and other coffee-inspired knick knacks for sale. Kurapika ordered a chai latte; he didn’t listen to what the others ordered. Instead, he inspected the different muffins, flavored breads, and scones on display. He could see why students from the academy enjoyed this establishment. It had a calm atmosphere, comfortable seating, and popular music playing softly from the overhead speakers.

There were quite a few people around his age sitting and sipping their drinks as they conversed. Leorio was the first to get his drink so he claimed a table in the corner near the entrance of the cafe; there was a good view of the street next to the spot he chose. Kurapika watched Leorio take a seat as Gon rushed toward him, smoothie in hand. Killua stood a considerable distance away from him but he still initiated a conversation.

“So,” he began seriously. “Why didn’t you want to go out with us today?”

Brown eyes connected with blue ones. Kurapika had to give Killua some credit for being the most perceptive and grounded of the group, considering his age. Nothing seemed to get past him. In other words, Killua would be able to smell a lie a mile away. It was difficult to say whether it would be beneficial or unwise to lie to the white-haired freshman. He supposed that out of the three, Killua would at least recognize why Kurapika might be reluctant to make friends. He could try the same approach he used with Kuroro, where he was honest but still vague with his answers.

“Don’t take offense as it has nothing to do with any of you. I haven’t stayed more than a few years in each home I have lived in so you must understand why I might be reluctant to make friends when I could find myself moving soon.”

“Do you want to move again?” The grave expression on Killua’s face was unsettling.

Kurapika faltered before answering slowly, “No, I suppose I don’t.”

“Then don’t. There. I solved your problem. Stay and be friends with Gon and Leorio.”

The younger teen had kept a serious face with each word.

After Killua grabbed his drink from the counter, he strode toward Gon who was speaking excitedly about something. Kurapika silently watched him, lacking an adequate response to Killua’s brutal honesty. If only Killua knew the finer details; that he was curse. Then he wouldn’t think that his simple answer to Kurapika’s problem would be fitting. 

Kurapika’s name was called. He grabbed his drink and held it between both of his hands, letting the heat from his chai latte warm his cold fingers. Without hurry, he joined the others at the table. He sat facing the window, opposite of Killua. They locked eyes again. Killua would not be won over so easily; he made that clear by stating that Kurapika should stay and be friends with only Gon and Leorio. Fortunately, Kurapika didn’t have any intention to win him over so his words didn’t sting.

Kurapika watched the passersby on the street. The variety of individuals was refreshing in a way as he was used to the mundane life that was small towns. Most of the people that walked by avoided eye contact with those they passed. But those that passed by someone they knew instantly broke their isolated travel. Among the stream of those travelling to their destinations, one individual caught Kurapika’s eyes.

Gold piercing eyes seemed to scan their entire table through the window as if the owner of those eyes was intentionally looking for someone present in their company. Kurapika watched the tall, older teen make his way across the street to the door of the coffee shop. Immediately upon entering Echo Cafe, he turned, ran his fingers through his slicked back, crimson hair, and stopped to Kurapika’s left; he was close enough to lean into. He stood with confidence, as if his presence was wanted. Judging by Leorio’s and Killua’s faces, this stranger was very much unwanted.

“Morning!” the stranger said with a smile.

“Morning, Hisoka!” Gon returned with a bright smile; he seemed to be the only one excited to see this visitor.

“What do you want, Hisoka?” Killua asked coldly.

“I just saw my dear Gon through the window and just had to talk to him. It’s been far too long since he and I have chatted.”

“Well, no one invited you,” Killua spat, standing up, pressing his palms against the table, and leaning forward, as if the added height would scare away the red-haired teenager.

Gon frowned at his best friends and stated, “Awe, Killua, don’t be so mean. Hisoka is just being nice.”

Practically falling back into his seat, Killua crossed his arms against his chest in both defeat and defiance. Upon recognizing Killua’s compliance, Hisoka grabbed a chair from an unoccupied table and situated himself in-between Kurapika and Gon. If Killua’s stare was a weapon, Hisoka would have perished from the white-haired teen’s glare. 

Hisoka began chatting Gon up about his classes, and, although it was a fairly normal topic, Kurapika could see why Killua was on edge about this older teen. Hisoka was clearly flirting with Gon. He didn’t even try to mask his obvious interest in Gon. Nonetheless, whilst Hisoka’s attraction was obvious to both Leorio and Killua (and now Kurapika,) Gon was oblivious. 

“I was hoping to see you at Kuroro’s party,” Hisoka admitted with a sly smile.

Gon pouted as he said, “I wanted to go. Nobunaga even tried to invite me, but I guess Kuroro said I couldn’t.”

“Such a shame...” 

“Yeah, I suppose it is a shame. For you,” Killua snapped. “Are you done catching up now?! Because we have to continue giving Kurapika a tour of the city.”

Gold eyes shifted from Gon to Killua before resting on Kurapika. Those eyes held secrets, secrets that Kurapika doubted belonged to Hisoka himself. The cunning smile that graced those pale lips seemed to whisper threats, threats that could undo a person if they weren’t careful. Hisoka rested his pointed chin in the palm of his hand as he leaned his elbow against the table. With the lock of their eyes, Kurapika felt as if he was being challenged to something he didn’t remember signing up for. His primal instincts told him to run, to get out of the line of fire that Hisoka aimed toward him. But his body rooted itself to the chair, as if tendrils wrapped themselves around his legs, holding him against his will. 

And then Hisoka conceded.

“I see. I am upset to hear that I have overstayed my welcome. Gon, be sure to talk to me at the academy more.”

Although he had addressed Gon, his eyes never left Kurapika’s face. It wasn’t until he stood up to leave did he finally break eye contact. He swiftly exited the coffee shop without a word, taking along with him any conversation the four could have had.

~~*~~

Although most of the places were interesting, he found he couldn’t focus on his tour. The words leaving his companions’ mouths were static to his ears, and he found himself offering monosyllabic responses to every question shot his way.

It wasn’t because he didn’t find his company entertaining. Killua’s words had unexpectedly left an impression on him; if he truly wanted to stay and make friends, he could make it so just as Killua had stated. And he did want to stay; being here felt different than any other foster care situation he had been in. He liked Senritsu. He liked the enormous school and the masses of people where he could be invisible. He truly felt as if concealing his curse would be less of a challenge here. Afterall, once the curiosity that revolved around the status of being the new student diminished, it would be as if he doesn’t exist anymore, which is exactly what he wanted. 

He glanced over his shoulder. The struggle to focus on the conversations around him was credited to the feeling of being watched and followed. He was positive that someone was tailing them. Kurapika always had a keen sense of his surroundings; he could practically feel when someone had a threatening or ill intention. He could feel it now--the invisible fingers of someone who intended to reach him, to cause him harm. Nonetheless, he remained calm and entered the bohemian restaurant after Gon, Killua, and Leorio. But instead of sitting at the table with them, he told them he needed to use the restroom. 

The restaurant wasn’t very busy so Kurapika wasn’t surprised to find the three wooden stalls empty. The walls were a very dark purple and the toiletries were splashed with colors. As Kurapika stepped further into the restroom, he glanced into the mirror. His fingers caressed the intricate carvings on the mirror’s wooden frame. They reminded him of a maze, a long journey that he feels he knows too well. Everytime he feels as if he has made the right turn, he would find himself in front of another obstacle. Today would be another one of those days. He briefly looked at his own brown eyes in that mirror before he turned around and entered the handicap stall, leaving the door unlocked.

His stalker didn’t waste any time in following him into the restroom. Kurapika listened to the click of his stalker’s shoes as he approached the stall he was in. Black dress shoes peeked from under the stall door for a few seconds before the door was pushed open; Kurapika lifted his head to meet the eyes of the one who carried ill intentions toward him. 

Gold eyes pierced into Kurapika’s every fiber. 

Hisoka smirked.

“I was hoping I could have a word alone with Kuroro’s new toy.”

The tone in Hisoka’s voice was entirely different than it had been hours ago. Before he spoke kindly and playfully, but now danger and mischief dripped from his words like poisonous venom. 

Kurapika didn’t respond to Hisoka’s taunt; his lips pressed into a thin line as Hisoka locked the stall door. He wasn’t sure what the red-haired teen meant by “toy” but he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

Hisoka continued, undeterred by Kurapika’s silence, “Kuroro has taken quite the liking to you.” Hisoka stepped closer; Kurapika could feel the heat radiating from his body. “But he also grows bored of his toys if they don’t prove their worth.”

“I really don’t care about Kuroro.”

Hisoka’s smirk grew, as if he could tell that Kurapika wasn’t being completely honest, that he knew that Kurapika feared the damage a man like Kuroro could do to him. Even if that was true, Kurapika remained calm, collected, and clear minded. This obstacle was minor. Judging by the way Hisoka behaved around Gon, Kurapika could assume that this confrontation was simply teenage drama and that Hisoka was simply worried about Kuroro having interest in people other than the red-haired teen.

Hisoka must be infatuated with the leader of the troupe and on the prowl to remove competition.

“Kuroro is very good at undercovering information,” Hisoka continued, pressing his index finger to his chin, “But not quite as good at it as me. I know exactly why you have shuffled between foster parents.”

Without warning, Hisoka slammed Kurapika against the wall, circling his long, slender fingers around his throat. Kurapika’s feet left the ground, swinging frantically for support. He could feel his airways constricting and his mind flipping to survival mode, screaming at him to fight back, to stop this sociopath from killing him. Kurapika clawed at Hisoka’s hand, trying to break himself free from the deadly grasp. His heart raced and his blood boiled under his skin, and when Kurapika suddenly found himself with the strength to pry Hisoka’s fingers from his neck, somewhere in the back of his suffocated brain, he knew he had already screwed up.

“As I thought,” Hisoka announced, a twisted grin on his face. As he massaged the wounds that Kurapika left on his hand, Kurapika coughed and leaned over with hands on his knees. He didn’t need to look in the mirror to know his scarlet eyes had been activated and that Hisoka now knew that he was cursed.

Every possible consequence that could follow Hisoka’s discovery flew through Kurapika’s mind. He didn’t want to move again. He didn’t want to leave Yorknew City or Heavens Academy or Senritsu or Gon and the others he now considered making his friends. Yes, he has only been here for a week, but he knew he wanted to stay. Some sweat trickled down his forehead; he ignored it and clenched and unclenched his fists. He needed to stay. The safety and belonging he felt here couldn’t and wouldn’t be found in any other place. He chewed on the bottom of his lip, tasting his own blood. He was willing to do anything that Hisoka wanted to keep his curse a secret. 

Anything.

The desperation was apparent on his face; he could feel it etched into his skin, his frown, and the furrow of his brows. The smug smile held its place on Hisoka’s face.

“Don’t worry yourself.” He beamed with the pride of victory. “I will keep your secret.” He paused and added, “For a price.”

Without even hearing the details of the exchange, Kurapika was as good as ready to sell his soul to keep his curse a secret. 

“What do you want?” Kurapika was surprised to hear his voice was steady.

Hisoka didn’t miss a beat, pleased with Kurapika’s need to comply, and asked, “What is one of the first things you learned about Kuroro Lucilfer?”

Although this new threat on Kurapika’s life here had started with Kuroro, he hadn’t expected that it might end with Kuroro as well. Regardless, he had to obey all of Hisoka’s requests and questions as they were the only things keeping his curse a secret.

“He is very influential at the academy.”

“Hmmm, very good,” Hisoka’s smirk became sinister. “As you have only attended Heavens Academy for a week, you haven’t seen the full spectrum that is Kuroro. He runs that school. He has everyone eating out of the palms of his hands.” A euphoric expression had broken out on Hisoka’s face. “He gets whatever he wants whenever he wants it.” 

Kurapika hesitated, still clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, before finally declaring, “And that bothers you.”

Hisoka’s fingers trailed down Kurapika’s cheek, caressing him softly, before resting underneath his chin. The red-haired teen then slowly lifted Kurapika’s head, leaving just an inch of space between their noses. Their eyes bore into each other. All he could see were those cold, calculating, gold eyes, and all he could feel was the chill of Hisoka’s fingers and the warmth of his breath. He was close enough to hurt him again, and he could still feel the heat in his own eyes, the blood red warning targeted toward the man whose hand was tilting his head affectionately. 

“I want to rule the world.” When Kurapika didn’t respond, Hisoka explained, “I, of course, must start somewhere small. And I would have had the academy bowing to me by now if it hadn’t been for Kuroro. So I need you, Kuroro’s new toy, to help me destroy him.”

Kurapika didn’t owe Kuroro anything. And even if he did, protecting himself came first.

There wasn’t any hesitation with his agreement. He would help Hisoka take control of the school by bringing down Kuroro Lucilfer and his Phantom Troupe. What did it matter anyways? Kuroro and Hisoka were both seniors. By next year, Kurapika wouldn’t have to worry about either of them. If they wanted to parade around the campus as glorified bullies, let them. 

Upon hearing his compliance, Hisoka pulled away from him to whip out his phone. They exchanged numbers. All the while, Hisoka smiled eagerly. Kurapika’s hands were numb.

“Be sure to respond within minutes of all my messages and follow all my instructions. Or else something quite unfortunate might happen.”

With those words, Hisoka strolled out of the restroom. At the click of the door, Kurapika’s feet began to drag him toward the mirror again. As he stared at his reflection, red eyes and all, Kurapika found himself oddly calm for having agreed to take down someone he was sure had the potential to destroy him on a much grander scale than Hisoka could. Even so, it must be done as Hisoka currently had more power over him. He would just have to have faith that Hisoka would hold up his end of the bargain by keeping his curse a secret. 

He could only hope with this new job he wouldn’t have to spend too much time with Kuroro and that he could perform his duties in the shadows. He also hoped that Kuroro would be blind to the sabotage, as it would be detrimental to have two strong, influential students against him, ready to tear him to pieces.

This obstacle turned out to be one of the biggest challenges he has yet to face. If only he had never been forced to enter this maze he cannot escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Hisoka is hard; if you have any advice, let me know!
> 
> My goal is to update again before February is over. Got to keep myself motivated and positive even though I have so much to do!


	7. Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika develops a plan to combat Hisoka's scheme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long to update. I feel as if the update isn't even good so I might come back and edit or add more to it later! I am getting married in little over a month (so planning my wedding has taken a lot of time from me) and my graduate homework is just piling up! Not to mention lesson planning, grading, and all the work that comes with being a teacher! I hope you can forgive me for the long wait and not be too upset with the length and lackluster of the update.

Her eyes said it all; she wanted to him to come clean and tell her what happened yesterday on his tour of Yorknew City. She could sense it in his heart that he was conflicted and bothered by what transpired, but, unless he told her, she wouldn’t know the details. 

Kurapika had no intention of telling his foster mother the details.

Even if he wanted to confide in Senritsu, he didn’t know where to begin. Plus, he could only imagine what would happen if Hisoka discovered that he had pursued help from outside sources. Nonetheless, he had every intention to find a solution to this problem. At first, he had wanted to avoid Kuroro at all cost and simply do Hisoka’s dirty work and be done with it. After weighing all the possibilities of the various measures he could take, he realized a better course of action. Hisoka wanted him to play spy and gather information that could result in Kuroro’s destruction. However, Kurapika could use Hisoka’s threat to his advantage. He was positive that Kuroro had a similar plan to destroy the blonde. So, if Kurapika was to wave Hisoka’s threat in Kuroro’s face as leverage, he could halt any havoc the troupe leader planned on dishing out. Kuroro may end his game upon hearing Hisoka’s plan and at the promise that Kurapika wouldn’t help the redhead. Then Kuroro may even help Kurapika escape Hisoka’s grasp.

This was Kurapika’s best bet--although it was stretch; the only knick in the plan would be Kuroro’s discovery of Kurapika’s curse. But, if Kurapika had to pick between Hisoka and Kuroro with whom he had trust to his curse with, he was leaning towards Kuroro. The black-haired senior seemed just a bit more trustworthy, although, on any other occasion, Kurapika wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. However, he would do anything to prevent Kuroro from finding out about his curse.

“Whenever you want to talk about it, you have my full attention,” Senritsu spoke softly, pulling Kurapika from his thoughts.

Kurapika remembered that he was still sitting in the small, quaint living room. His eyes locked with Senritsu’s; the concern was etched in her face, carving wrinkles in the corner of her eyes and mouth. Kurapika forced his best, most believable smile.

“You don’t have to worry,” he reassured her. “I am still adjusting to the city life and getting used to the people who live here. You can trust me.”

“Of course,” she continued to frown.

~~*~~ 

Hisoka: As you know, Kuroro spends his break in the library~♢ 

For a good five minutes, Kurapika stared at that message. His phone rested in his left hand as his abandoned toothbrush waited patiently in his right. Hisoka had texted him right when he applied the toothpaste. He knew he needed to finish brushing his teeth, but he was too interested in the request Hisoka was about to ask of him. 

The next text then appeared.

Hisoka: I have something very simple to ask of you to do. For the whole week, make Kuroro trust you~♡

Kurapika really wanted to reply that that request was not as simple as it appeared in text, but he simply responded with an agreement. 

Hisoka: Good~ You should at least spend break time with him. Any additional time wouldn’t hurt though ♧ Oh, and remember, even one slip up could result in your unveiling~♤

The text messages stopped. Kurapika finished brushing his teeth, at lost with what he would say to Kuroro during break, especially since other troupe members were sure to be there. He would need to wait to share Hisoka’s scheme until he was sure Kuroro was alone and willing to believe him.

~~*~~

Although Kuroro already threw his Halloween party, the students at Heavens Academy were excited for Halloween on Thursday. They hustled to class, speaking about costumes and parties and illicit activities. Knowing that Gon and the others would have something planned, Kurapika avoided them before first block; he knew it would be impossible to think about anything other than finding and speaking with Kuroro during break. 

Shalnark sat in his usual spot, playing a game on his phone. They exchanged morning greetings as Kurapika took his seat next to him. The game consisted of matching colored shapes to make room for candy pieces to fall to the bottom for points. While focusing on his game, he stroke up a conversation. 

“I lost you at the party. I was going to show you Kuroro’s game room.”

“I was exploring on my own,” he responded, not surprised about Shalnark’s priorities. “People watching. It was my first house party, after all.”

“Really?” Shalnark pressed, “I would imagine there were house parties where you used to live.”

“I am sure there were but I never bothered with those type of people... I would rather stay home and read.”

Shalnark softly laughed, glancing from his phone to Kurapika, “Sounds like Kuroro. If he wasn't so interested with being in charge of the school, he’d avoid parties.”

Shalnark’s words reminded him of Hisoka’s similar remark. His comment was also a good gateway into asking to join them for break.

“Do you always join Kuroro for break in the library?”

“Of course,” Shalnark stated, smiling at his phone. “Do you want to join us?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, just follow me after class then.”

~~*~~ 

An abundance of students passed by Shalnark and Kurapika as they made their way toward the library. Kurapika couldn’t help but notice Gon, Leorio, and Killua sitting under the shade of one of the largest trees on campus. Gon was doing something embarrassingly funny as usual (he was trying to balance an apple on his nose) and Leorio was obviously trying to finish an assignment before next class. Neither of them noticed Kurapika’s trek with Shalnark. Killua, as observant as he was, immediately made eye contact with him. His cold eyes shot daggers toward Kurapika, but Killua’s anger fell unheard as Kurapika simply returned his attention to Shalnark’s back. 

Upon entering the library, they headed in the same direction as last time. The Phantom Troupe must have the same study room reserved for break time every day. As they approached the study room, Kurapika noticed that Kuroro was sitting with two different people than last time. The first was a tall muscular blond male, who looked as if he could be out of high school by now, just as Uvo had. The other was a leggy blond female whose nose was as colossal as her breasts. The two blondes seemed to be in a spat about something, or, more accurately, the male seemed to be arguing with the uninterested girl.

Shalnark pushed the door open and the blond male student immediately stopped talking; Kuroro glanced from his writing, locking eyes with Kurapika. A small smile appeared on his pale lips.

Taking the vacant seat next to Kuroro, as the male student was sitting on the other side of him, Shalnark didn’t hesitate to start playing one of the many games of his phone. Kurapika slowly made his way to the seat opposite of Kuroro, right next to the female troupe member. 

“Morning,” Kuroro continued to smile, never having broken eye contact. Kurapika did his best to smile as he returned a pleasant greeting. The troupe leader then continued, “What do I owe this unannounced visit?”

On the walk to the library, Kurapika had elicited Shalnark’s help, telling him that he wanted into the Phantom Troupe, playing the sympathy card by remarking that he felt the Phantom Troupe may be the only group of students who understand his situation. Although Shalnark seemed uninterested in everything that wasn’t technology, he did appear pleased at Kurapika’s confession. He promised that he would start the conversation with Kuroro. Now that they were sitting, Shalnark didn’t beat around the bush.

“Kurapika was telling me that he wanted to establish a relationship with the Phantom Troupe.”

The female student remained silent, but the other unknown member promptly gave his two cents about Kurapika’s expressed interest in the Phantom Troupe.

“So what?” His voice was deep, rough, and unfriendly. “We don’t need any new members.”

Calmly, Kuroro responded to the harsh denial, “Phinks, I think we should offer him a trial run. After all, Kurapika comes from a similar situation as the rest of us.” Phinks seemed to withered under the leader’s stare. “He has been floating around between foster parents for quite some time.”

The female troupe member still remained silent beside him as Phinks scratched the back of his head, admitting defeat to his leader, as he mumbled, “Thank God I am 18 and finally escaped that group home.”

Kuroro returned his attention to Kurapika, “What made you decide to join us?”

Kurapika repeated the story he told Shalnark and then added, “I want to try things differently this time. Build a foundation for the lack of a better phrase. I feel as if being with others who have experienced similar situations will allow me to make things work here in Yorknew City.”

“I see.” Kuroro’s eyes burrowed into Kurapika’s as he continued, “You should join us for break and lunch for the rest of the week. At the end of the week, we will decide as a group whether you shall be allowed into the Phantom Troupe or not.”

Kuroro’s smile grew, Shalnark continued to play on his phone, the woman stared at him out of the corner of her eye, and Phinks mumbled something incoherently. Kurapika didn't care about the others’ reaction, but that sly smile on Kuroro made his skin crawl with anxiety. He'd give anything to know what scheme Kuroro was concocting. 

~~*~~ 

Kuroro was understanding when Kurapika told him he had already arranged to have lunch with Gon and the others--that the rest of the week he would dine with them, just not today. Gon was waiting for him after English class as he always sprints from his class to meet him. When they arrived to the enormous campus cafeteria, he couldn’t help but stare in the direction of the Phantom Troupe. Not only were all the members present, eating and chatting, but an abundance of students were surrounding them, especially around Kuroro. Most likely they were reminiscing about the Halloween party that passed, or at least trying to fill in the void of lost memories from the over-consumption of alcohol and drugs. 

Kurapika was relieved he was not surrounded by that mass of people. Hopefully tomorrow when he sits with the troupe, the crowd of people that have been stalking them will have dispersed.

Once Kurapika and Gon had purchased their meals, they sat with Leorio and Killua. Last week, the conversations they held were always pleasant, funny, and absent of tension. However, the moment Kurapika sat down, Killua immediately started interrogating him.

“You seem to be good friends with that blond in Phantom Troupe. Shalnark, right?”

Kurapika could feel his whole face sag into a frown, “I wouldn’t say we are good friends.”

“Regardless, you are trying to get cozy with the Phantom Troupe.”

Although it was out of concern and not utter dislike, Leorio echoed Killua’s distaste for the troupe, “I know we told you they run the school, but we said that to discourage you from talking to them, not to motivate you to become friends with them.”

Before Kurapika could reassure Leorio that he knew what he was doing and he needed be worried, Gon piped, “I don’t see the problem.” A frown formed as he stared at Killua, “Some of the member are pretty nice.”

Leaning forward, Killua jabbed his finger into Gon’s forehead repeatedly as he spoke a little too loudly, “I will tell you some of the problems that you aren’t seeing!” On his fingers, Killua started to name these problems--problems that Kurapika were sure were true. “One, they frame people for the things they do. Two, they have enemies. Three, they take advantage of people. Four, Chrollo’s foster father is a mob boss. And five, they get along with my brother, Illumi, and anyone that gets along with him has to be a terrible person.”

Kurapika could find himself agreeing with all of those statements except for the last as it sounded rather personal. Although Killua and he didn’t get along, he didn’t feel it would be acceptable to pry about the white-haired teen’s relationship with his brother. 

Killua glared at Kurapika. “I said you could be friends with Gon, but not if you going to bring trouble to him. Gon is naive, trusting, and helpless, and I will not let you put him in danger!”

“I have no intention of mixing social groups,” Kurapika tried to reason.

Gon quickly and angrily leaned in his seat to get into Killua’s face, “First, I can take care of myself! Stop trying to protect me! And second, Kurapika can be friends with whoever he wants to be friends with!”

They glowered at each other in silence for a few moments before both falling back into their seats. They avoided eyes contact; Kurapika felt a little guilty being the cause of this argument between best friends.

Leorio, who has been silent through the whole thing, finally spoke, “Just be careful. Killua is overacting a bit, but I do agree that they could be dangerous." His eyes shifted left to right as if checking to see if people were eavesdropping. "I heard of some students who got on the Phantom Troupe’s bad side and disappeared. No one really knows what happened to them.”

That sounded like a rumor someone made up to scare others, but Kurapika didn’t say anything as it looked as if Leorio was proud of the information he was able to share. Killua most likely didn’t say anything as he would want Gon to hear anything that would deter him away from the troupe. So Kurapika ate in silence for the rest of lunch, wondering how they were going to take Kurapika’s betrayal for the next couple of days when he will be spending his breaks and lunch with Kuroro instead of them.

~~*~~ 

Senritsu always picks him up from school. He told her that he was fine with taking the bus or taxi. He was even okay with walking, but she wouldn’t listen. She insisted that it was her duty as his caregiver. Although he felt as if he was just putting more work on her shoulders, he appreciated her even more.

Kuroro drives home alone usually. He has a slick black car that probably cost as much as that mansion he lived in. Kurapika realized that after school he would need to wait near Kuroro’s car if he ever wanted to talk to him alone. Nonetheless, Kuroro still needed to trust him, and a part of Kurapika felt as if he needed to know more about Kuroro before he carried out his confession of Hisoka’s scheme. Even so, before this week is over, he needed to convince Kuroro to drop any ill-will he had against him and join forces to stop Hisoka from wreaking havoc on both of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, not the best, but I will edit it/add more when I have some more time. My next update won't be til the beginning of May as by then my semester of grad school will be done and I will be a married woman! Please stick with me as you guys are motivating me to practice my writing!


	8. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroro offers an entryway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking forever to update. Life just got in the way.  
> Good news is that I am officially married. No longer do I have to plan a wedding! I am in my last week of summer graduate classes so I will have a little over a month of no responsibilities (except curriculum writing). I can get some updates in the next month or so!

A couple days had passed. It was Friday. This was Kurapika’s last chance to corner Kuroro alone and confess Hisoka’s plan to destroy them. He had been attempting to build trust between them, but he had yet to isolate the Phantom Troupe leader from its many members. Of course, the blonde had engaged in small talk with the leader and his members throughout the week, trying to build trust with all of them, especially since his intention was to join their group, but it all seemed superficial. Nothing serious had transpired between anyone. Kurapika knew that trust couldn’t be built on useless, trivial conversations.

Half of track and field had passed by in a blur of running, jumping, and throwing. Kurapika joined Kuroro and Nobunaga for break under the shade of a large sycamore tree. Wiping the sweat from his face, Kurapika sat next to Kuroro, who was engrossed in texting someone; Kurapika tried his best not to snoop, but some part of him was anxious about the texting and the small smile that graced the leader’s lips.

It was as if some competitive part of him saw the lack of attention he was receiving as threatening. 

Before he could reflect on his feelings, he spoke, “What were you reading the other day during break?”

Kuroro finished his text and responded, “It was the first edition of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“I didn’t know you were into literature of that nature.”

“Anything even remotely controversial is an interesting read. Plus, I like to add to my collection of antique books,” Kuroro spoke seriously, his gray eyes pouring into Kurapika; he felt naked--it was as if the troupe leader was trying to either look through him or into him. He wasn’t sure which he would prefer.

When Kurapika realized too much time had passed since Kuroro’s words, he glanced around nervously, wondering how to continue the conversation and avoid looking into those steel eyes.

“I have an extensive library at home. You’re more than welcome to see it.”

This was it.

Kuroro left an opening for him to crawl though. He was letting down his walls. He was opening the door. He was reaching out, waiting for Kurapika to take his hand.

He had to take his hand.

“I would love to come see your collection. I am quite fond of reading.”

Kurapika was shocked to hear the cool edge to his own voice. He was sure he was going to sound desperate and far too excited. Kurapika locked eyes with Kuroro once again. Suddenly, the world intensified. The gentle caress of the wind seemed much more aggressive. The chirping of the birds seemed more grating. The grass beneath his fingers itched more than it had before. His clothes felt tighter. He felt hotter. He felt short of breath. Sweat trickled down his temple even though he wasn’t running. His heart raced even though his body remained sitting.

Kuroro’s smile seemed more alluring and inviting.

With a downward glance, Kurapika silenced the conversations their eyes were having against his will. If Kuroro even noticed the strange tantrum his body had gone through, he pretended not to. Kurapika pretended his body’s confusing rush was a trick of his mind.

“Meet me by my car after school.”

~~*~~

“Get in.”

Kuroro was already sliding into his sleek, black car. He didn’t know why his body wasn’t listening to him. The walk to Kuroro’s car had felt so long and difficult... and exciting and frightening. Clearly, he was more nervous about trusting Kuroro with his secret than he thought--what with the moment of confession drawing so close. After all, there were many possible consequences to this situation. The best possible outcome would be if Kuroro decides to team up with him to stop Hisoka from revealing his secret. Kuroro could also decide to refuse helping him but still promise to keep his curse a secret. And then there were the troubling outcomes: Kuroro will out Kurapika’s curse and/or help Hisoka destroy him.

And those were only the branching consequences. Even more consequences could stem from the arching umbrella of uncertainty and betrayal. It’s clear that this walk was just the start to each careful step Kurapika must take to gain Kuroro’s support. After all, Kurapika was still unsure what Kuroro’s intentions were from the moment they met.

Kurapika slid into the passenger seat. Kuroro had expensive black sunglasses resting on his nose and was holding out his spare pair to him. Kurapika put them on, sure that these sunglasses cost more than everything in his room. 

As they drove to Kuroro’s home, Kurapika was both surprised and not surprised that Kuroro’s choice of car music was classical music. Kurapika never bothered listening to music so he wasn’t entirely sure what is considered in at the moment, but he was sure it wasn’t this. Not that classical music is terrible to listen to--Kurapika found it much more appealing than the music from the Halloween party--but he just assumed someone like Kuroro would listen to the hits. 

“Would you like me to change it?” Kuroro asked, as if he had been reading his mind.

Too quickly, he answered, “No.” When Kuroro’s smirk was the response to Kurapika’s embarrassing retort, he added, “It just stuck me as strange that you listen to it in the car.”

They do say honesty is the best policy.

While they turned down the long driveway toward the manor, the troupe leader confessed, “Typically I play what’s popular, but I assumed that we had similar taste in music.”

“You would be right.”

Kuroro turned off to the side road next to his extravagant manor toward a garage that could hold at least ten cars. And as one of the garage doors opened and Kuroro slowly pulled in, Kurapika stared at the long line of expensive cars, from Porsches to Teslas, before looking around Kuroro to the other line of cars. 

Before he could think about how stupid poor he sounded, he asked, “How many cars do you have? How much do they cost?”

Kuroro laughed very quietly; Kurapika wasn’t even positive if he heard his laugh or he had just imagined it. Before he could reflect on that harmonious sound, Kuroro answered, “Technically, they belong to Nostrade, but there are 9 cars, including mine.”

As they climbed out of the car, Kurapika willed himself to be quiet as he didn’t want to say anything else that may appear unrefined. Kurapika just couldn’t place it. He takes pride in picking the correct response and the appropriate wording, and, yet, here he was struggling to keep his cool. Was he this nervous?

The garage door hummed behind him as it closed. The Phantom Troupe leader led him toward the large front doors of the manor; it looked just as it had before, minus all the vehicles from the party. Oncoming rain hissed a warning as Kurapika’s leaden legs lead him through the damp air. He watched Kuroro’s hands glide onto the door handles; the door clicked and opened. Kurapika could feel his anxiety in his veins, whispering that following him inside is a terrible idea. 

He ignored the whispers.

“The library is on the second floor; out of all the rooms, I make sure it is inaccessible during parties.”

Kurapika followed him up the grand staircase and then to the right. The hallways presented themselves differently during the day. The antiques that lined the hallways were less eerie. Shadows and moonlight didn’t creep up on him as he walked. No pounding music echoed throughout the halls, screaming words he couldn’t understands.

All there was was Kuroro, leading him to the library, filled with either betrayal or trust. Kurapika could only hope for the latter.

He pushed opened the second to last set of large oak doors. 

And when Kurapika stepped inside the library, he felt as if he had finally found somewhere that he could belong. From floor to ceiling, bookshelves held hands with one another, stuffed with books of all sizes and colors. Rolling ladders rested strategically against each wall of books for convenient access. Upon the light oak floor, a warm red rug ran from one side of the large library to the other. An artificial fireplace rested between two large windows which were hidden behind luscious curtains that matched the rug. Comfy chocolate colored couches and chairs surround the fireplace and nestled in the corners of the library.

Kurapika couldn’t fathom how many books were in this library, but he knew it could rival the library at Heaven's Academy. 

“You seem impressed.”

Kuroro’s words gathered his attention. The library door soon clicked as it closed. Kurapika met his steel eyes.

“It is quite impressive. I am surprised a mob boss would have such an extensive library in his manor.”

“Nostrade had this library built and filled for me.” Kurapika was sure there was shock all over his expression for Kuroro smiled and continued, “It was the first thing I asked for when he began fostering me when I was eleven."

“Seems strange he spends so much money on you when I am sure he only gets so much for being your foster parent,” Kurapika reached for information.

Kuroro’s smile remained cool on his face, “While you look around at the library, think of the information you are willing to trade for the answer to your curiosity.”

Kurapika tried his best to focus on the selection of books that were dying for him to read them, but his mind wasn’t up for the task. Instead, as Kuroro sat in one of the sofas and Kurapika’s fingers brushed down the book spines, he thought about how to start his conversation with Kuroro. If he was to be honest with himself, he just wanted to get straight to the point. In a few days, Hisoka was going to continue using him against his will. There really is no point in dragging out a conversations with Kuroro. At this point, Kuroro either trusted him or didn’t; he either would be on his side or be against him. Dragging this out would only fry his nerves.

Kurapika sat next to Kuroro who was casually reclining in the sofa with a copy of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. He waited as Kuroro finished the page he was reading.

“I suppose you would feel more at ease to enjoy the library after you tell me what it is that has been bothering you all week.”

Chewing on the bottom of his lip, Kurapika didn’t know if he was frightened or relieved that Kuroro has known something was wrong. It would make sense as to why he was invited over when little progress had been made in their relationship. 

Surprisingly, as Kuroro moved to a sitting position, his knees barely touching his, the fear within him seemed to have vanished. Instead, an eerie calm settled in the pit of his chest.

“Last weekend, I had the unfortunate chance of meeting Hisoka.”

“That is quite unfortunate.”  
“He followed me into the bathroom to threaten me into teaming up with him. He had noticed that you had spoken with me and I had attended your party. He wants me to help destroy you so he can be in charge of the school.”

“How very flattering of him.”

“I don’t know much about Hisoka,” Kurapika admitted, “But I feel justification in fearing for what he has in store... for both of us.”

“What did he ask you to do so far?”

Kurapika, bothered by the smile that still rested on Kuroro’s face, answered slowly, “To gain your trust.”

“Telling me Hisoka’s plan is a good move to gaining my trust before backstabbing me.”

“I wouldn’t backstab you,” Kurapika answered, surprised by the honesty he felt when saying those words.

The troupe leader’s smile grew, “I believe you. So tell me, what did he threaten you with that made you agree?”

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds. His throat felt dry. His palms felt sweaty. He swallowed and wiped his hands carefully and subtly against his pants.

“He knows that I am a cursed.”

Kurapika had expected a number of reactions from Kuroro, but when the Phantom leader’s eyes lit up and his smile expressed true pleasure, Kurapika felt as if he had forgotten how to speak. The beauty of Kuroro’s face was both off-putting and amazing.

“That’s quite a stunning piece of information. I must supply a secret of equal value.” Kuroro hands reached for the back of his head, untying the white bandanna that he usually adorns on his forehead. He slowly removed it and Kurapika saw, upon his forehead, was a cross-shaped tattoo. “You see... I am a cursed too.”

Upon hearing those words, Kurapika couldn’t ignore his thoughts about how beautiful Kuroro truly is or how his heart raced with attachment toward the person whose knees pressed against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Fill free to share your thoughts about the update. Hopefully, I did a good job!


	9. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika discovers there is more than trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this has taken so long to post. I have been putting off the ending of the chapter because writing steamy stuff is hard for me. If anyone has advice, please give it! Anyways I stopped the chapter where it was hard to continue and I will pick it up again in the next chapter after some more research. Thanks for waiting!

~Chapter 9 - The Confession~

“I will go first, “ Kuroro stated. “Neon is Light Nostrade’s biological daughter. Neon was born cursed. Nostrade told me it was because he betrayed a cursed who then put a spell on his wife while he was pregnant. When Neon was born, she was perfectly healthy. His wife wasn’t as lucky. She died shortly after childbirth. Skip a few years when Neon was eight and she had written her father a poem. It warned him about a shady deal he was about to make with a long time partner. He thought she was just being rebellious because he wasn’t home often. Turns out her poem spoke the future and Nostrade lost a hefty amount of money. That was when Nostrade learned his daughter was cursed, and he accredits it to that spell casted on his wife.”

“So that is why Nostrade is such a successful mob boss?” Kurapika asked.

“Yes. And having this advantage to see which deals will lead to success and which can be his downfall, he became greedy. He began allowing others to pay him to have their fortunes told; of course, he didn’t tell them who was doing it as he has to keep his daughter safe. Well, one of these individuals worked at the group home I was currently living. She told Nostrade for the right fee, he could foster a cursed child who had an ability to lead him to more success. And after seeing my ability in action, he immediately paid her off the records and took me in.”

“How nurturing of him.”

Smirking, Kuroro remarked, “The jobs I complete for him are nothing compared to the luxury, gifts, and free reign at Heavens Academy.”

“I see,” Kurapika could only respond as he was still bothered by Kuroro’s corrupt nature within the school.

“Your turn,” Kuroro requested before Kurapika could ask him what his ability was.

So Kurapika told him everything about him, and it was strange how satisfying it was to tell all his secrets to someone. Knowing Kuroro was a cursed changed everything. They were one of the same. They were both hunted. They both did what was possible to be accepted and to keep their secrets hidden. 

Since Kurapika’s clan was murdered for the curse when he was young, Kuroro was the first person his age that he has known to be cursed as well. Those who had found out he was cursed, although forced to forget through different measures, greeted Kurapika with fear and disgust, like he was a monster. Kuroro was looking at him as if he was worthy to be alive.

“Your eyes burn scarlet when you are under intense emotion. However, what benefit do you gain from your curse? People fear us for a reason. We have special gifts that normals do not. What is it that you can do?”

“As far as I know... nothing,” Kurapika averted his gaze to the red rug. “I am just cursed with these red eyes.”

“You said, that at a dance, your eyes turned scarlet and then you easily took on a mob of classmates in self-defense.”

“Yes.”

Placing his fingers to his chin in thought, Kuroro remained silent for a couple of anxious beats of Kurapika’s heart. Just as Kurapika was about to ask Kuroro to share what he was thinking, a sharp pain erupted at the side of his head. It wasn’t until his head started throbbing that he realized Kuroro had smacked him upside the head. 

Kuroro’s finger slithered around his neck, forcing his back to the couch. Kuroro hovered over him, straddling his legs to the couch so he couldn’t kick himself free. His fingers grew tighter around his neck as Kurapika’s heart raced in both betrayal and a lack of oxygen. He tried to push his fingers in between Kuroro’s hands and his throat but he wasn’t strong enough. However, unlike with Hisoka, his will to fight seemed to vanish before it even arrived. With tears forming in his eyes, he thought about giving up. If another cursed, someone he trusted enough to share his secrets with, wanted him dead too, then why shouldn’t he just accept it?

“Why aren’t you retaliating? Your eyes haven’t changed scarlet.” Kuroro’s steel eyes burrowed deep within him, searching for an answer in his eyes. When Kuroro found the answer he was searching for, he loosened his grip enough to allow Kurapika to breath. He stated rather coldly, “You lack strength. I am no stronger than you, and, yet, you could not push me off. How could you perform so poorly and be willing to give your life to me when you had just informed me that you took on a group of angry teenagers with ease.”

Kuroro released Kurapika and leaned back, still straddling him.

Catching his breath, Kurapika stared at the man above and thought of his words. Had he attacked him to see his eyes grow scarlet? Had he intentionally hurt him in hopes of seeing how strong he was? Sweat slid down his temple; he brought a trembling hand to wipe it away. As he did, Kuroro leaned forward and brushed his hand against his neck, where he had previously strangled him. 

He whispered, his lips mere inches from his, “I apologize. I don’t want to hurt you; I was trying to see if your strength increased when your eyes turned scarlet.”

Although Kurapika heard and recognized Kuroro’s theory of his cursed ability, he was focused on the war going on in his body. A wave of emotions were coursing through him, battling for dominance. 

Fear.

Excitement.

Denial.

Ecstasy.

Obsession.

Heat.

And the heat rose from the pit of his stomach to his cheeks.

Kuroro was so close.

He could tilt his neck and kiss him.

He couldn’t believe that he wanted to kiss him.

He just strangled him.

“Your eyes.”

“What?” Kurapika asked, sounding confused, and hot and bothered which was embarrassing.

A sly smirk appeared. Kuroro seemed to moved even closer to him. His lips were centimeters from his. All Kurapika could see were those large gray eyes looking at him as if he was the only thing in the room. Heart racing, he swallowed loudly. Kuroro’s hand slithered from his neck to cup his burning cheek.

“I suppose now would be a good time to tell you my cursed ability.”

Kuroro’s warm breath danced between their lips. God, he hoped he couldn’t feel the betrayal between his legs.

“After I have gather someone’s trust, I can steal their secrets whenever I want.”

“What do you mean?” Kurapika’s voice cracked.

“I knew you were cursed since Monday. The moment you walked into the study room at the library, weighed down by Hisoka’s threat, looking to gain an ally in me although you were still wary of me, I could read you through your eyes.”

“So you knew everything I just told you today?” Kurapika asked, feeling defeated that all his secrets had been known, but relieved that Kuroro had the decency to wait for him to tell him himself.

“No. It’s hard to explain, but it’s only the secrets currently on your mind. Secrets from your past are too difficult for me to steal. But new secrets are fresh. Those are easy to steal. For example, I just stole a secret from you.”

The burning sensation that had calmed during Kuroro’s explanation reappeared with a greater amount of embarrassment. Kurapika could feel his scarlet eyes peering into Kuroro’s eyes which teased him with his own secret. He wanted to say something to the troupe leader, to make excuses, but he couldn’t invent any. Before now he didn’t even know he could be interested in anyone. He had thought all this anxious energy within him was because he couldn’t trust Kuroro. To think it was actually because an invisible magnet had drawn him to the leader.

Maybe he’s bluffing about stealing secrets.

Maybe he doesn’t know.

The man hovering over him, the first person he had trusted to tell his past to, confessed in a sultry whisper, “I know you hunger for me.”

That warranted a response, but no chance to answer came.

Kuroro lightly brushed his lips against his before pressing his entire body aggressively into him, deepening the kiss. His tongue ran over Kurapika’s trembling lips, requesting entrance. Kurapika had never kissed anyone before, and the fear of inadequacy kept his lips tightly closed. Instead of pushing further, Kuroro pulled away and returned to straddling the blonde.

“Remember at the dance I told you that I liked rare things? Well, you are quite rare, and I quite like you.”

As Kuroro’s eyes continued burrowing into his soul, Kurapika remained silent, embarrassed, and relieved that Kuroro had accepted his blossoming feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, advice and encouragement is greatly appreciated. I am going through some tough times right now so I haven't been wanting to do much of anything.


	10. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika tries to make sense of turmoil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I took way too long to update this. Some serious writer's block on top of too many work to do! I will try to update before December is over!

With the way Kuroro climbed off him and began making a counter attack toward Hisoka, Kurapika began to doubt the kiss even happened. Kuroro sat poised, holding eye contact as if they had been discussing the weather the entire time. And here he was, sitting, heart racing with exertion, still trying to wrap his mind around his emotions toward the troupe leader.

Calmly, Kuroro stated, “My suggestion is that the next time Hisoka contacts you, you inform him that you have been accepted among the Phantom Troupe members and that I have shared my past with you, to encourage Hisoka to believe that I have rewarded you with my utmost trust. If Hisoka asks for details of my past, you can be honest with him. The only bit of information that I urge you to keep private is that both Neon and I are cursed just as you are. I trust that you are capable of lying well?”

“Well enough,” he heard himself respond.

“Good. Do note that it will be impossible to lie to me now.”

Kurapika wondered if Kuroro could hear him swallow at the passive threat. It would be near impossible to lie to someone who has the ability to steal one’s secrets. He could probably read every emotion tumbling inside him, fighting for dominance. Should he discuss his feeling with Kuroro? Or should he remain quiet as it is ever so obvious of the confusion and passion nestled inside him?

A small smile rested playfully on the leader’s lip. His fingers reached forward before brushing tenderly against the side of Kurapika’s cheek. If only he could read those steel eyes, look deep within, and see if Kuroro was truly interested in him or simply interested in the idea of him.

“I shall drive you home. I believe you need some time alone this weekend to work out what is coursing through your mind. Come find me on Monday.”

~~*~~

The drive home had been silent. He felt as if he had wanted to say something, whether it be about something trivial such as classes or as profound as how he felt about the troupe leader, but he could not force his lips to part. It was as if the kiss had sealed them from speaking about anything he was unsure of.

When Kuroro pulled into Senritsu’s driveway, muscle memory sent Kurapika reaching for the door handle, ready to leap out of the car without sparing a word, but Kuroro’s hand tightly seized his other wrist. Whipping his head toward Kuroro, Kurapika barely secured eye contact before his lips were captured in Kuroro’s. Fingers soon entangled in his blonde hair as the kiss deepened. Mind fuzzy, Kurapika willed his lips to match Kuroro’s, but he felt clumsy and stupid trying to return the kiss.

Reading his embarrassed as the kiss broke, Kuroro smirked, “It’s fine. You’ll learn how.”

Kurapika practically fell out of the car as he sped-walked to the front door. He didn’t look back until he had unlocked the door and opened it. Kuroro, still smirking, held up a hand before pulling out of the driveway. Kurapika could still feel the heat in cheeks; no one had ever made him feel or act this way before. He felt like a fool.

~~*~~ 

Hisoka texted him at ten in the morning; Gon did as well. Kurapika read Gon’s text first. Apparently Gon and Killua were going downtown to the movies tonight. Leorio might come if he gets off work early. Kurapika was invited, and although he knew that Gon would be devastated if he didn’t come, Kurapika’s mind was muddled with thoughts of Kuroro and Hisoka so he was unsure if he wanted to socialize. Plus, Killua made it clear that he didn’t like him. Hisoka’s text was congratulatory in nature.

Hisoka: You done quite well with gaining Kuroro’s trust~♡ Meet me at Echo Cafe in an hour!

Kurapika did not want to meet with him, but he knew he must. After a quick shower, Kurapika asked Senritsu to drop him off at the cafe. She beamed in response.

“Meeting friends?”

He knew that she would be able to tell that he was lying by simply listening to his heart, but he lied nonetheless, “Yes.”

Smiling dropping, she asked, “You seemed troubled. Are you sure you don’t want to share your concerns?”

Senritsu was acting as his foster parent. He always kept his distance from his foster parents, but that was because they were normals, unaware and against his curse. She was different. Surely, he could trust her. Afterall, she greeted him morning and night with a smile, made sure he had everything he needed, and was concerned about his well-being, both physically and mentally. 

“I can fill you in in the car,” he finally remarked.

He felt eerily calm as both of them climbed into her car. Once she started down the street, he picked through his words carefully, deciding what was enough to share without bringing concern over Hisoka.

“There is a senior at school who knows I am cursed; I do not know how he knows, but he does. I am going to meet him right now...”

Cutting him off, Senritsu asked quietly, but sternly, “Is he threatening you?”

Avoiding her eyes, he answered, “Yes. Although it is nothing illegal, so you do not need to be worried. He just wants to destroy someone’s popularity. Typical school drama.”

“Then why are you so worried? Judging by your heartrate, you fear for this boy he is trying to ruin.”

Kuroro’s visage swirled around in his head. Just imagining him caused his hands to tremble, his heart to race, and his stomach to flip. He couldn’t deny that Senritsu was right. Kurapika feared for Kuroro. He did not know what Hisoka had in store for Kuroro and he feared that it was more than simple reputation damage. 

When Kurapika finally remembered that Senritsu had asked why he was worried, he realized that she already knew. A small smile and a twinkle in her eyes told him that she saw his feelings through his heartbeat. He tried to remain calm, waiting for her opinion of his attraction to another boy, but when he continued to study her face and patience in waiting for him to tell her, he realized that she would support him.

Just like a real mother...

“Thank you,” he said quietly, averting his eyes to the window, still too embarrassed to say his feelings out loud.

~~*~~ 

Hisoka sat at a corner table in the cafe. He was wearing a button up, long sleeve crimson shirt with a chocolate brown vest over it. Tight black jeans and brown wedged dress shoes matched his ensemble. A mug rested on the table next to him, his long fingers snaked around the handle of it. His hair was slicked back, and if Kurapika didn’t completely hate him, he would have admired Hisoka’s unique beauty.

As Kurapika drew closer to the redhead, those gold eyes found him. A sly smile spread on his previously serious expression. He gestured to the empty seat across from him. Kurapika sat down quietly and stiffly.

“Good morning,”

Kurapika muttered a quick morning back to him merely to be polite.

“From a distance, it appears that Kuroro trusts you.”

Kurapika chose his words carefully and spoke them confidently, “Yes, he has extended an invitation to the Phantom Troupe and had even invited me to his home, without others.”

His face brightened with ecstasy as he inquired, “So what did you learn about him? I am sure he was willing to tell you some of his secrets, considering who you are.”

The strategic, strict plan of what to say slipped away as Kurapika found himself asking, “What do you mean by that?”

Hisoka leaned back in his seat, with a look of confidence and victory as he answered, “Because you're cursed. Kuroro would love to add someone like you to his collection. You don’t think there is a reason why he navigated toward you? He obviously knew you were cursed. Everyone he collects fulfills some purpose for him.” When Kurapika remained silent, debating his own worth to Kuroro, Hisoka continued, “For example, Shalnark is extremely knowledgeable about technology and can get his hands on things even before they are released. Pakunoda is extremely talented at reading people; she can find your tics that determine whether you are lying in a matter of minutes. Nobunaga has been fostered by the chief of police. All the members of the Phantom Troupe have something to offer Kuroro.”

Kurapika’s skin seemed to crawl among itself. Clammy and cold. He felt as if shivering could rid him of the feeling, but it lingered, burrowing deep into his skin, traveling through his blood, freezing it, and then wrapping itself tightly around his heart. Normally he wouldn’t care if someone betrayed him or was using him. However, the idea of Kuroro using his affection toward the troupe leader simply to collect him to his team made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to brush off Hisoka’s words, to think that he meant something more to Kuroro than the others, but he had to think realistically about this. He barely knew Kuroro. He had heard the awful rumors and heard straight from Kuroro’s mouth that he get his way even if it meant hurting others. 

Bile bubbled in his throat; he had let him kiss him. Why had he been stupid?

“Our next movement cannot happen until Kuroro moves first. Soon enough, something will come up and either Kuroro will desire something or need to act illegally. Once you learn of anything of that nature, contact me. That is when we will strike. I believe he intends to steal something from the principal as there are rumors the principal is getting a new toy. We need to make sure he is caught red-handed so he cannot use someone else as a scapegoat. Until then, be sure to maintain your relationship with Kuroro.”

Kurapika nodded slowly, fighting the wave of emotions, trying to return to his aloof personality, the one where he didn’t care about others. Hisoka leaned forward and seductively pressed his index finger to Kurapika’s lips as if trying to silence him.

“And remember, I hold your secrets and your life in my hands. Do not disappoint me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any advice is sure appreciated! I am always trying to find motivation to write!


	11. The Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika makes a decision as Kuroro reveals what they will be stealing.

~Chapter 11- The Heist~

Gon ran up to him that morning, upset about Kurapika’s absence from the movies. It wasn’t until Gon had brought it up that Kurapika had even remembered that Gon had texted him Saturday. He had spent the entire night reading, trying to forget about Kuroro, or, more precisely, that Kuroro might be using him for something. 

Walking with him to class, Gon asked, “Are you feeling better today then? You could have told me you were sick! Killua and I were worried!”

Kurapika was sure that Killua was not worried, but he responded, “I apologize. It was rude of me to not respond. Next time, I will be sure to be more responsible.”

Laughing, Gon said, “You don’t have to speak so formal! I forgive you. You wanna eat lunch with us?” When Kurapika didn’t answer, Gon continued, “Or are you sitting with the Phantom Troupe again?”

“I have been welcomed among them.”

“Really?!” Gon halted in his tracks, utter shock plastered on his face. Kurapika couldn’t help but smile at how Gon looked. 

“Gon, we’re going to be late.”

Picking up the pace, Gon said, “I am okay with you being friends with them. I like Nobunaga and Pakunoda. They are nice to me. But Leorio and Killua won’t like this. They don’t trust any of the Phantom Troupe. I mean, I know some of them are a little scary but they can’t all be that bad.”

“They’re alright.” was all that Kurapika could mutter.

“You are good friends with Shalnark and Kuroro, aren’t you? I saw you get in Kuroro’s car.” Kurapika tried to fight the heat from rising to his cheeks. Gon was oblivious and stated cheerfully, “Well, if you like them, then I like them too!”

They stopped in front of Kurapika’s first class. Seeing and hearing how happy Gon was for him even though Kurapika is putting the Phantom Troupe before him made it difficult for Kurapika to brush off the guilt at having ditched Gon on Saturday. 

“This weekend we could go somewhere.”

Gon’s face lit up at the offer.

“Yeah, let’s do it! But it can’t be Friday night though. Hisoka asked if I wanted to go to Cafe Echo with him and I said I would!”

Before Kurapika could insist that that was a terrible idea, Gon sprinted toward his class with a huge smile.

~~*~~ 

Kurapika met with some of the troupe members behind the library. A few smokers were relaxed across the concrete steps, but with one glare from Kuroro, they hustled away. His power among the students and teachers was frightening. Kurapika tried his best to avoid eye contact with him, but every time he snuck a peek, Kuroro’s eyes were boring into him. If the other troupe members noticed, they were pretty good at pretending they didn’t.

Once everyone was situated on and around the steps, Kuroro began, “Tonight, the principal is receiving some important documents related to the new privacy regulations.”

Just this morning, the news reviewed the new privacy regulations of public institutes. Past bylaws protected individuals from having sensitive records such as health documents and past employment from being shared by authority figures. In other words, secrets could be known by your boss, or in this particular case, the school administrators. Although the information wasn’t likely to be leaked to staff and other individuals, it still meant more people would know your history. And in Kurapika and Kuroro’s case, the administrators would know that they were cursed.

Shalnark responded, “So there may be interesting dirt on the students and faculty.”

“Correct.”

Machi questioned Kuroro, “What are we using these document for once we've secured them?” 

“That is to be determined upon retrieval. It is unclear what sensitive information there is to be gained.” The troupe members nodded, already on board, even with such little information. “Nobunaga, what did you gather from your father?”

“It isn’t coming through the mail. Someone is personally delivering it. There’s a chance the principal will view the documents before they are left unattended for us to steal.”

Kurapika was in a tight situation. He did not believe in theft. However, theft to survive was a different situation. If the administrators knew he was cursed, his school life would change drastically. Teachers may tinker with his grades. Administrators may find “reasons” to punish him. He may even be asked to leave the school, especially if they saw how he had already been expelled from school because of his curse. 

And then there was Hisoka who clearly knew more than he led on. Kuroro’s role in the school would be tarnished if his genetics were discovered. There is a chance that Hisoka already knows that Kuroro is hiding something and plans on using these documents to destroy him. Kurapika was ordered to make off with the files, handing them over to Hisoka, and then being a good boy while Hisoka shared them with the whole academy. 

Even if there was a chance that Kuroro was using his emotions to collect him, he couldn’t allow others to know their secrets. If anything, he needed to start separating himself from Kuroro. A calmness rushed over him. His mind began to clear bit by bit. Last night he had truly reflection on his emotions. He had reasoned with himself; he was attracted to Kuroro because they were similar. He had read many books about a “honeymoon” phrase where someone new is exciting; he just needed to push through this phrase.

He pushed the emotions for the troupe leader deep down and repeated to himself. You must only worry about yourself. Participate in this heist simply to protect your own history from everyone, including the Phantom Troupe.

The troupe continued to make plans. Machi and Shalnark were planning to stick around after school to get a feel of the administration building as well as inflintraste the security system. Nobunaga would return home and eavesdrop on his father and his officers. Kuroro would convince other students to backup their alibis. Everyone else would be on standby. The expectation was to meet behind the administrative building by dusk.

Everyone went their separate way to head to their next class. As Kurapika took a step in the direction of his class, Kuroro’s strong fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back to the shadows of the library near the dumpster. The putrid smell of old coffee and milk filled his nostrils. Little nats floated around their heads as Kuroro corned him against the wall. The cold brick wall pressed against his back as Kuroro closed the distance, resting his left forearm against the wall, trapping Kurapika between him and the garbage.

“Do you remember,” he whispered calmly. 

Kurapika met his steel eyes, not wanting to back down anymore, not wanting to appear weak. Fury shimmered in those grey eyes, and Kurapika fought the nerves rising in his chest. This man had too much power over him; he needed to take control.

“I remember telling you that it would be difficult to lie to me, to hide from me.”

“I have nothing to hide from you,” Kurapika challenged because it was true enough.

“Then why do I see suspicion in those red eyes of yours.”

Kurapika could feel them burning in his skull. His red eyes aflamed, challenged and ready to defend against this man who wormed his way into this being.

When the silence stretched between them, Kuroro seemed to become more agitated with Kurapika’s unwillingness to comply. He was losing his cool, very unlike him. Kurapika was sure he would step away and leave; he would regain his composure and move on. Someone with Kuroro’s demeanor, especially if he was simply collecting him, didn’t have time to waste in a staring match or with untangling his thoughts.

His lips crashed into his. Kuroro aggressively pressed into him, leaving no room for air. Kurapika could feel every bone and muscles in the troupe leader’s body, as he was being devoured. Kuroro raked his right hand through his blond hair while his left snaked around his lower back. Their teeth checked before their tongues were intertwined. Heat simmered and boiled under Kurapika’s skin, starting with his cheeks before slowing traveling down his body. His insides tingle and burned, his body betraying him. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, his tongue, his body. Kuroro had complete dominance over him.

And then he pulled away roughly, biting Kurapika’s bottom lip as did. Those gunmetal eyes firing bullets of fury at him. 

Although his words came calm, danger hid beneath the coming storm, “You would do well to put faith in me as opposed to him. Pick your side wisely. Make sure that clown is here tonight.”

And then he left Kurapika alone, muddled within his own speculations of Kuroro’s behavior. What exactly was Kuroro feeling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been absent due to health issues. I apologize for not updating in six months. This chapter is a little short and not very well written (I am a little rusty right now). 
> 
> I am still deciding exactly what I want to happen in the heist and I didn't want you guys to wait longer. My plan is to get the next chapter up in a couple of days. I just wanted to post something to show you guys that I haven't given up on this story! Life just got in the way!
> 
> I have also started writing my own personal story in hopes of publication so this is still my way of practicing different writing techniques/finding my own voice. 
> 
> Support and nagging would be much appreciated or else I have zero accountability.


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